


Wanted

by morganndrake



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:18:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganndrake/pseuds/morganndrake
Summary: With a bounty on your back, the search for a lost treasure leaves you racing for survival. Stumbling upon the notorious thief, Samuel Drake, you decide to join forces to help retrieve your key to freedom.





	1. Where Did It All Go Wrong?

Vines gripped at your scratch ridden body. You breathed in the thin air of the mountain range and halted your footsteps as a mouse scurried in front of you into the bushes ahead. It was just you, in the middle of the forest.

You can think back to the moment where it all started. Getting involved in the business was most likely one of the biggest regrets of your life, but you needed the money. You were desperate. The first job seemed painless with no challenges. It was just a simple task with a promising reward. But as you continued to work, your tasks became harder and more dangerous, with the punishment more threatening each time.

Discomfort stung your body when you heard the metal doors of the warehouse open. The Boss, your own personal grim reaper, lurked in the shadows until he appeared from behind stacked crates in front of the table where you sat. He was holding an envelope containing your next job. Or, as it should be called, your next death sentence.

You folded your hands together in anxiety and flinched when The Boss slammed the envelope against the table. You held your breath and gritted your teeth as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from you.

You didn’t dare to speak. One wrong move, one wrong word, and you were to be riddled with bullets at The Boss’s command. His henchmen were scattered throughout the warehouse, all their eyes on you, and their weapons ready to fire. The long, slicing silence was broken by The Boss clearing his throat. His voice was low and gritty from the cigarettes and cigars he often had hanging out of his mouth. The smell of alcohol and tobacco followed him wherever he went.

“Because of your failure to retrieve the last to artifacts I sent you,” he leaned forward in his chair. “You have no choice but to come back with your hands full.”

Bodyguards shifted behind you and you could hear their boots crunching pebbles underneath their feet.

You looked down at the envelope in front of you. A deep red wax seal ensured its untouched security. Your eyes drifted up to The Boss. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. No choice?”

The Boss stared at you with cold eyes, as he reached down to his holster and pulled out his pistol. It slid across the table and came to a stillness in front of you.   
“No choice.” He said grimly.

You inhaled sharply at the sight of the gun and gripped your hands tighter.

“You see,” he continued, using his finger to spin the gun against the table. “Your failure to retrieve these artifacts reveals your failure to be trustworthy. Sooner or later I’ll have my men out for you. You’ll be wanted for treason.”

His threat was convincing. 

“Treason? Sir, it’s not my fault that the artifacts were gone by the time I got there-“ You argued, stopping your sentence when the charging handle of a gun caught your attention.

“It’s your fault that you did not get there in time.”

“Whoever took them was two steps ahead of me.”

“So now you’ll be the one ahead.”

The Boss places his fingers on the envelope and slid it towards you. Your eyes stayed fastened on him as you took the envelope and broke the seal.

“France.” He said, leaning back on his chair and pulling a cigar out of his inside jacket pocket. You shifted apprehensively, sliding your feet against the concrete flooring.

You slid out several yellowed and withered papers from the envelope and unfolded them carefully, revealing a sketch of a pendant.

“And what am I going to get out of this?” You asked, folding the papers and slipping them into your bag.

The Boss took a drag on his freshly lit cigar and exhaled the smoke into your face.

“You get to live.”

You lifted your head from the rising tension in the room. 

“The next flight to France leaves tomorrow. Don’t come back until you have the pendant.”

Without another word, The Boss stood up and motioned for his bodyguards to follow. The crates where he once appeared was now the same place where he vanished, leaving you still sitting at the table in the darkness.

Before you even made it to France, the news had begun to spread of a missing treasure which was worth more than anyone could fathom. Desire and greed ensued those who had the money and time to find this treasure. A famous treasure hunter sent out for a multi-million dollar mission the lost treasure. You were not the only one searching for this treasure.

Now here you were, in the middle of thick green brush, pushing away branches and vines. Every step you took revealed more greenery but no caverns. 

A section of research that you had done revealed that one of the first clues to the treasure belonged to an explorer, embedded in one of his journals. He supposedly died from a gunfight in a cavern, protecting his most valuable possession.

You wiped the sweat off your brow after a trek down a steep slope. You had almost slipped and tumbled about 30 feet into uncharted terrain. Thankfully you had trees to break your fall.

The echo of dripping water changed your course of direction. The sound of water was a promise of a place to fill your canteen, but most importantly, the chance of finding the cavern you were searching for. Glances at your map assured you that you were in the general area of the cavern that held your next key to freedom. You just had to find it.

Your hearing was your most reliable sense in the middle of the woods and following the sound of the water soon led you to where you wanted to be. 

Bingo.

The wide mouth of the cave welcomed you into its darkness. It got darker with every step you took and you soon realized you were going to need light. Thankfully you had bought a lantern from one of the local shops in town, and you lit the gas light with a lighter.

The murkiness of your sight was now gone, and a small ring of light surrounded you as you made your way further into the cave. The humidity and warmth began to build and you wiped the sweat off your forehead, the dirt that had collected on your arms rubbing off onto your face.

Your lantern flickered against the walls of the cave. The cavern looked endless, bottomless, but you needed to find the journal. You maneuvered your way around stalagmites and fallen rock, avoiding anything that seemed like it could be a trap.

You pushed further to reveal what you were dreading yet expecting to see. Skeletons. Bodies were scattered across the ground, the signs of a struggle eminent in the way that they had spent their last moments of life before they finally died.

Sighing, knowing you were going to have to search them, you reluctantly knelt down. The smell of mildew and mold was overpowering, and you lifted your shirt over your nose at an attempt to diffuse the odor.

You reached inside of a coat, the moisture and slime that had collected over the years leaving a sticky residue on your fingers. You grimaced at the feel, and let out a muffled sigh of disappointment. The first skeleton was empty.

Going from body to body, you endured the grime and dirt until your fingers finally brushed against brittle pages inside the inner pocket of a weathered wool coat. A burst of excitement rushed through your body. You had finally found it.

You took the book out of the pocket and delicately flipped the pages of the small journal. The pages were scribbled in French, the ink faded yet still visible and it mentioned the lost treasure. Most importantly, it mentioned the pendant. An exhale of satisfaction left your lips and you pulled out your phone to further preserve the journal. You snapped pictures of each page one by one. These clues were crucial to your next step in finding the lost pendant. 

You shut the small notebook and slid it into your backpack. Pushing the hair out of your face, you lifted your lantern off the ground, the sound echoing throughout the cave walls. But there was another noise accompanying it, a sound that you did not make.

“I’d put that book down if I were you.”

A man’s voice made your blood run cold. You froze in place, not moving, not breathing. It occurred to you now that you had not been alone. This person had been following you.

“And if I don’t?” You taunted, touching the strap of your backpack.

You heard a gun cock behind you and a wave of shock coursed through your veins. Another gun.

“I really don’t wanna play this game, sweetheart.” He threatened. His accent had a unique sound to it, the words bordering between Boston and Jersey.

You didn’t have the choice to give up.

“Who said it was a game?” You answered slyly.

He let out an exhale of frustration, and you could tell he was distraught. You had yet to see this stranger’s face and discover who he was. 

“I don’t have time for this.” He responded, his footsteps echoed as he came closer behind you.

“Turns out I don’t either.” You turned, lifting the lantern and bringing new light to the man’s face.

He was dirty, like you, from the hours of exploring in the woods and crawling through the cavern. He looked tired and weathered, but his stance and posture brought a sense of youth to his character. Seriousness plagued his face. He meant business.

“Listen, if you don’t give me that journal, we’re both gonna be dead. So, just make it easy and hand it over.” The gun was still pointed at you with each step he took towards you. His other hand was outstretched for the journal.

“I can’t do that.” You took a step back. “I need this.” 

Distorted voices could be heard from inside the cavern and the stranger looked back in a panic.

“You’re not the only one being followed.” He said harshly, an urgency stinging his voice. “Now give it up.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you were cut off by the clicking of ammunition clips and footsteps of marching men echoed against the walls. 

“God dammit.” The man cursed, readying his pistol.

Faces peeked over the last rise in the cavern before they reached where you stood. You felt your chest rise and fall with a slowed panic. You reached into your bag and pulled out the notebook. 

“Wait!” You shouted, putting yourself into the middle of the standoff. Holding your journal next to the flames of the lantern, you threatened to put it in flames. “Nobody shoot, or this burns.”

“Bring the journal here and we will leave you as you were.” A woman’s voice echoed from the middle of the small army.

“Bad decision.” The stranger behind you whispered, and glared at him with disapproval. 

“You have 30 seconds until we open fire.”

“Okay, okay.” You consented. 

Their eyes and crosshairs were focused on you while you moved across the cavern floor, the journal not leaving its position next to the flame.

You knew you had to make a split-second decision. You risked losing the hard copy of the journal and let it touch the flame. It only took seconds for it to be engulfed in the fire. And then you threw the journal into the crowd of armed men.

The journal hadn’t landed on the ground when you heard the stranger shout behind you. A hand wrapped around your arm and you were yanked to the side, dropping your lantern and being immersed in the obscure darkness once again. You were running as fast as your legs could take you. The strangers grip never left your arm and the sound of gunfire followed close behind.

It wasn’t long before the gunshots faded away and you were still running. You were unable to see anything yet somehow the stranger knew exactly where he was going. Light began to peek through an exit to the cavern. Daylight was still prominent and welcomed you like an old friend. You emerged in the sunlight and out of the cavern, the outside being an opposite to the cold and grime of the cavern.

The stranger let go of your arm with force before turning around and placing his hands on the back of his neck. 

“Why the hell would you do that?” He asked, his voice seeming almost too calm compared to his previous emotions.

“We were going to die! It was the best option to escape.” You retorted, rubbing the handprint on your arm from where he was holding you.

He ran his hand through his hair before turning and looking at you. 

“And why did you grab me like that? I don’t have the journal anymore.”

You glared at him with annoyance as he looked to the sky and let out a laugh.

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. You took pictures of it. I saw it.”

You bit your cheek and crossed your arms as he moved closer, mimicking your actions.

“You’re valuable to me now.”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed. “I am not a possession!”

“Never said you were.” He said, lowering his eyes to your bag. 

You stared at him in disgust and his eyes met yours once again.

“Sam.” He said, sticking out his hand for you to shake. “Sam Drake.”  
“Charmed.” You pressed your lips together in a fake smile. 

“Look, I’m not happy about this either, Ace—but you’re the one who decided to burn the journal. You left yourself with no choice.”

“Mmhmm—no choice.” You said, turning away.

No choice. The benefit of having a partner in the search could provide assistance that you would not have had access to if you were doing this alone. This man was a complete stranger and after the same artifact as you. He could turn his back on you at any moment. But somehow—he seemed trustworthy. You glanced at Sam once more and sighed with defeat. 

“We don’t have much time to lose.” You spoke up, and turned back to Sam. 

He stood up from a stump he was sitting on, and gave you a smile.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”


	2. I Will Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected partnership between you and Sam was one that you were not looking forward to. Being stuck with him was enough, but the constant prodding of question leads you to want to work alone.

The endless green of the forest seemed to spread infinitely, and you were the lucky soul to be stuck with the one and only Sam Drake. 

As if.

You hiked several paces in front of Sam, pushing branching out of your path, and hearing him groan behind you as they bounced back into his face.

“Hey, you mind watching where you let those things go?” Sam snapped, ducking and missing another oncoming branch.

You scanned the terrain for a place to rest, and as you hated to admit it, a place to further your plan to find the pendant. Your unexpected, so called “rescue” from the cavern had delayed your search, and you were desperate to get back on track.

“I need to check something.” You alerted Sam, and he obliged by placing himself on a nearby rock.

You dug around in your backpack after setting it on the ground, pulling out a notebook and the phone containing the crucial pictures of the journal. Immediately starting to translate the words, Sam sat silently across from you and watched as you worked.

“You know, I can’t help if you don’t let me.” Sam’s voice trilled, pulling your attention away from the phone.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head slowly.

“I don’t remember asking you to help.” You mimicked his sing-song tone, your eyes returning to the pages of the book.

A silence passed over Sam from your remark, possibly from offense, but your concern was devoted to your translations.

The quiet soon became unbearable from your lingering sense of guilt, and you dropped your pen with annoyance. The abundance of emotions was enough to drive you insane. 

Sam’s hands were toying with a leaf he had picked off the ground, restraining himself from talking back and ruining further chances at his possible fortune. 

“Sam, I gotta step out of this. I have to do this alone.” You said firmly, and you tried to dismiss the overwhelming sense of guilt. 

He turned his head to stare at you and squinted with confusion, beginning to shake his head.

“You know if you walk away, I’m only gonna follow you. You have the clues that I need.” He said, dropping the now crumbled leaf. 

Your eyes stayed locked with his as you realized he was right. Why would he leave when you held the key to fortune? Why would he let you gain all the treasure? 

“This treasure is obviously important to the both of us, so it would be smarter to work together, no?” He raised his eyebrows at his proposition.

You exhaled with defeat once again.

“Fine, under one agreement…” You huffed, holding out the phone to Sam but not letting go. “You can have the rest of the treasure we find, but I get the pendant.”

Sam contemplated your offer, reaching out for the phone. You didn’t drop his gaze and noted the underlying confusion in his eyes from the offer.

“That’s, ah… odd—but I’m not complaining.” A smirk tugged at his lips as he grabbed the phone and began to examine the pictures.

You noticed how his eyes studied the screen, putting his fingers to his lips and rubbing his index finger and thumb together in thought. His hair was slicked back and he occasionally ran his hand through it to push the strands back into place. Your eyes were drawn to a tattoo on the side of his neck—an outline of four small birds peeking over the wooly collar of his jacket. His face was focused and full of intent and you spotted a small scar underneath his eye.

“Can I see the notebook?” He asked, not looking up from the phone.

You passed the notebook to him with an unexplained eagerness and he flipped through the pages where you had begun to translate.

His abrupt break of focus caught you off guard and you glanced away. 

“We have to go to town.” Sam said, his inspection of the notes and pictures at an end.

“For what?” You tucked the notebook back into the bag that sat by your side and zipped up the front pocket.

Sam stood up from the small boulder he sat on and brushed off his pants before walking off back into the woods.

“I gotta get some cell service.” He answered, his voice drifting off with every step he took.

“Cell service?” You reiterated, struggling to get your backpack onto your shoulders. “What does that have to do with the treasure?” 

“I need to make a call!” Sam raised his voice as the distance between you grew further.

You tried not to trip on vines and other obstacles while you attempted to catch up. You ended up at his side and adjusted your pace to match his long strides. 

“Who is so important that you need to drop everything to make a phone call?” You said, letting go of the straps on your backpack and letting your arms hang by your sides.

“I know someone with, uh—connections.” Sam said with a shrug, pushing branches out of the way.

The sun had begun to sink into the horizon, illuminating the woods into a rich, golden glow.

“It’s going to be dark before we reach town.” You noted, and Sam kept moving.

“We have at least a couple hours to cover some ground, so let’s not waste any time.”

Conversation was sparse between you and Sam as you trekked through the woods, coming up on a steep bluff that you needed to climb to get to town. The sun was beginning to set and the worries of nightfall buzzed in your mind, but Sam insisted that town was only a few miles away.   
He finally spoke up, trying to make pathetic small talk.

“So, what got you into this business?” He asked, making you bite your cheek.

“What business?” 

“Treasure hunting?” Sam enunciated his words, not understanding why you were questioning.

“Oh, no. I’m not in the treasure hunting business, I just—“ You started, unable to come up with an excuse for your ‘situation’.

“Wait… you mean to tell me that you’re on the hunt for a treasure… yet you’re not a treasure hunter?” He let out a laugh of confusion.

“No, I’m not.” You said.

Sam was trying to process your words before you stopped and turned to him, gripping the straps of your backpack. 

“So does that mean—“ 

You couldn’t handle it.

“Look, I never asked to be dragged out of that cave. I didn’t expect to get stuck with someone who could turn their back on me at any moment. I don’t have to tell you anything, so please, stop asking.” You pleaded, a desperation hooked on your last words.

Sam was taken aback and his smile slowly faded into a stern stare.

You began to regret your words as he approached you slowly, his shoulders and body beginning to tense up.

“I could say the same.” He said, his voice seeming too calm for his body language. “I didn’t expect to be stuck with a stuck up, negative—“ His voice trailed off. “What was that?”

Sam’s head turned to the woods, not saying a word.

“Excuse me? No, finish what you were going to say!” You half-shouted, feeling your face getting hotter as you balled your fists.

“Shush.” Sam scolded over his shoulder, crouching down behind a bush.

“Don’t tell me to—“’

His hand landed over your mouth and he pulled you to the ground, ducking behind the bush. 

His hand was still over your mouth, the other holding onto your arm. Your back was pressed against his side, and you could feel his chest rise and fall.

You held your breath. Your eyes widened as you heard talking behind the bush. The mercenaries were here.

Sam peered over the shrubbery, watching a pair of moving shadows walk out of eyesight.

You exhaled heavily when he let go of you.

“You alright?” He asked, checking one more time to see if it was clear to continue.

You nodded, unable to speak. You had almost gotten caught. Your words could have killed the both of you.

You were near the bluff that you needed to climb to get to town, and without question, you hurried and began to scale the rock.

If Sam needed to get to town to make a phone call, it meant lost time. Lost time meant the clock was ticking for the pendant to be taken, and you couldn’t risk anyone getting ahead.

Sam spoke up after letting you climb in silence for a while.

“You know, that was a pretty odd offer you gave me.” He said from underneath you.

“What?” Your voice was strained from the effort to climb, and you wondered how Sam could climb so effortlessly. 

“Only wanting the pendant? The treasure with it could be worth millions, why not want a part of that?” He asked, his sentences accompanied by a few grunts from grabbing onto the rocky wall.

You debated on telling the truth. At least you did for a second. 

“The pendant is a family heirloom. I’m the only living member left.” You lied, hoping it was believable enough.

Sam nodded silently underneath you, saving the rest of his energy for the remaining climb. 

You reached the edge of the cliff and hauled yourself over the edge. You were out of the remaining strength and breath you had left. Sam, however, seemed unfazed.

Sam turned to look at you and stifled a laugh. You had your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. You probably looked absolutely pathetic.

“How about we call a cab? You’re not looking too good, hotshot.” Sam put his hands on his hips and shifted his weight to the side.

You shot him a glare and straightened up. 

The walk to the main road was shorter than you expected, and Sam kept his promise, waving down a taxi when it passed by. The sensation of finally sitting was heavenly, and it was hard to stay awake. 

You propped your head against the back of the driver’s seat and closed your eyes from the pain of an oncoming headache. Little did you know that closing your eyes would sent you straight to sleep.

Sam noticed you hunched over out of the corner of his eye, your arms crossed, enveloping yourself in a self-warming hug. He couldn’t help but let a smile slip from his lips as he took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. 

The sound of the cab door closing pulled you from your sleep. You leaned back into your seat and rubbed your now numb forehead. You squinted, your eyes not quite adjusted yet to the dark. You saw a silhouette outside, it had to be Sam judging from sheer size and shape. He was on the phone, pacing on the sidewalk as he talked.

You rubbed your eyes and stretched, shifting your attention to Sam when he opened the door of the cab.

“I got good news and bad news.” 

You said nothing as he leaned forward and gave an address to the cab driver, thanking him with a quick, “merci”.

“Good news?” You reminded him, your voice dry and sleepy.

“Good news is that I have someone who can get us closer to the pendant and the treasure.” He said, pausing for a response from you. 

“That’s awesome!” You said, feeling the extra weight of Sam’s coat on your back. How you hadn’t noticed earlier was a mystery.

“Bad news is, I called some motels around here, and ah, there is only one with an available room. Word is spreading fast about that treasure.” He said, messing with a loose string on his shirt.  
You held the edges of his jacket, running your fingers over the wool lining on the inside. If you had connections to the pendant, sharing a room with Sam was a minor inconvenience. You could bear with it.

“I don’t mind,” You said, leaning forward back into the seat. “As long as there’s two beds.” 

Sam smiled and shifted in his seat to lay back.

“What if there is only one?”

You couldn’t help but smile and punched Sam playfully as he let out a laugh.

And for once, you thought to yourself—maybe having a partner wasn’t that bad.


	3. Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night continues as you are still trying to grasp having Sam as a parter. Emotions become too much and you need an escape, and Sam has a suggestion to lighten the situation.

The night began by checking into the dusty motel that Sam had contacted earlier in the evening. A slight inconvenience arose when there was only one room left, but in need of a place to stay the night, you decided to suck it up and share the room with Sam.

He helped you carry your things to the room and a wave of relief coursed through your body as Sam opened the door and you spotted two beds.

The two of you were quiet as you put your bags onto the separate beds and began to shuffle through them. Your head was flooded with nervous thoughts of what was to come, how you and Sam were even going to begin searching for the treasure, and if Sam’s connection was even trustworthy.

You needed to get out and clear your mind. Your thoughts were overwhelming and your hands began to shake. You walked to the door and opened it, hesitating and turning back to Sam.

“Hey,” You said quietly, drawing Sam’s attention from his bags to you standing in the doorway of the small musty motel room. “I’m gonna step out for a second.”

He looked at you concernedly, and gave you a small nod before turning back to his bags and continuing to unpack the rest of his things.

You closed the door behind you and closed your eyes, letting out a shaken sigh. The lights in the hallway flickered and you hurried down the hallway, pushing open the door to the pool deck and inhaled the fresh air desperately.

You looked for a place to sit, finding a pool chair and taking a seat on it, pulling your legs to your chest. The clouds moved over the sky, letting the stars and moon play hide-and-seek from behind them.

Shutting your eyes, you let the sound of water and the breeze settle your mind. You had to tell yourself everything would work itself out. You would find the pendant. You would get to live. You would be able to be at peace with yourself again.

The door to the lobby creaked open and you let your gaze fall down to the water.

“Thought I might find you out here.”

Sam walked across the deck, pulling a single cigarette from the pocket of his shirt.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, placing himself in the chair next to yours, holding the cigarette in his mouth, as if waiting for you to answer before he lit it.

“It’s nothing.” You said, shaking your head, and Sam lit the cigarette, letting it burn for a few seconds before taking a drag.

“I’m sure it’s something.” He dropped his hand between his legs, tapping the ashes onto the ground. “You’re not out here smoking or swimming so—I’d think you needed get some stuff off your mind.”

You shook your head. How could this guy that you barely knew read you so easily? You thought you were an expert at hiding your emotions. Were you actually able to hide them well? Or did no one care enough to notice, except for Sam?

You sighed with a defeated laugh.

“How the hell are you able to do that?” You asked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

Sam glanced at you from the side and smiled at the glowing cigarette.

“What’s got you troubled?” He stubbed out his cigarette on the concrete and leaned back into the chair.

You thought about telling him what was really bothering you. Sam was one of the only people who acknowledged your feelings. And you only knew him for less than a day.

“I just, I really need to get this pendant. It really means a lot to me and, uh, I’d be hurt if it ended up in the wrong hands.” You said, the word having two different meanings to the both of you.

Sam nodded, his eyes fixated on the pool but his focus on each word from your lips.

He leaned forward, folding his hands together in between his legs.

“The way I see it, we are closer to this treasure than anyone else because of you. Taking pictures of the journal and burning the hard copy? The only clues belong to us. Our next step to the treasure is tomorrow night, so I say instead of worrying, we let go for a night?”

You stayed quiet, letting your eyes drop from Sam’s eyes to his hands.

“You’re in France!” He let out a chuckle, “Why not enjoy it?”

You didn’t want to agree, but Sam was right, once again. There was no closer you could get to the treasure until tomorrow night. The night was just beginning, and you had the chance to genuinely enjoy yourself.

“That sounds…fun.” You said, pausing your words and watching a smile appear on Sam’s face.

“Attagirl.”

He stood up and you followed, forcing yourself to clear your mind. You needed to let go. You wanted to let go. You wanted to have fun. You needed to stop worrying.

You had agreed with Sam’s idea to go to a small pub on the outskirts of the town a few minutes away from the motel. Having a few drinks could calm your mind.

The pub was filled with light conversation and the sound of glasses clinking. The smell of spilled beers wafted through the air and Sam placed himself on a barstool. You sat beside him, folding your arms on the wooden countertop.

Sam ordered two beers for the both of you, and the bartender slid the mugs onto the table.

You grabbed the handle of the mug, and held it out to cheers with Sam.

“To the treasure?” He asked.

“To the treasure.”

You clinked glasses with him, putting the glass against your lips and sipping on the cold drink. It was somewhat refreshing, and your eyes connected with Sam’s once more. Lowering the mug, Sam began to laugh, before you realized the small line of foam that sat on your upper lip.

You giggled and wiped it away with the back of your hand. A group of girls laughed in a corner booth, while some other men were watching a sporting event on the TV above the bar. They shouted in excitement when their team scored, ordering drinks for everyone in the bar.

You and Sam exchanged glasses as two more mugs were placed in front of you. And you drank.

The moon rose further into the sky and soon the bar began to settle down after the game ended, your body warm from the mixture of energy and alcohol coursing through your body. You walked alongside Sam as you both left the bar, laughing from a dumb pirate joke he had just told.

Something about a pirate driving? And a steering wheel?

It was hilarious in the moment, and it was fascinating to see how passionate Sam was about pirates. He talked to them throughout the time at the bar, and brought up how he and his little brother had found Henry Avery’s legendary pirate treasure—and came back empty handed.

“Yeah,” he laughed, putting his hand on your shoulder as you walked down the empty street. “The only thing we came out of that hunt with was a few coins that I slipped into Elena’s pocket.”

“That’s insane!” You exclaimed, and his hand slipped off your shoulder and back to his side.

The light from the street lamps illuminated the cobblestone sidewalk, as you turned the corner on the street into another alleyway. You were surprised how Sam could remember the streets so easily, and you stood close when the light of the streetlight faded away.

You heard footsteps behind you and Sam noticed the closeness between you two, his composure tensing as he noted the footsteps getting faster.

Someone was following you.

“Next corner, we turn, and you run.” He said under his breath, and you nodded, pressing your side against his arm.

The corner approached too slowly and Sam turned the corner, pushing you forward.

“Run!”

You began to run before you heard Sam shout in pain. You stopped in your tracks, turning around and watching Sam swing at a man dressed in grey.

You put your hands over your mouth to keep you from screaming. You could hear their fists hit each other. Sam’s back was bleeding. The other man had a knife. Sam had nothing.

You watched as the man grabbed Sam and threw him onto the ground, and Sam tried desperately to dodge his punches and swings with the knife.

You had to do something. Sam was defenseless. You looked around desperately for something to help Sam, for something to fight off the attacker.

The closest thing you could find was a small plank of wood, but it would have to do. You could hear Sam straining against the mugger.

You cried out as you swung the board at the assailant’s head with as much force as you could. The board splintered in your hands. The pain shot through your arms.

You stunned the attacker for enough time to let Sam deliver a final blow to his face, pushing him off and attempting to sit up before moaning and laying back down.

“Sam!” You shouted, running to his side and kneeling. “Sam, are you alright?”

He shook his head, closing his eyes as he laid his head on the pavement.

“It’s okay, just, here…” You attempted to help him up, adjusting yourself to sling his arm around your shoulders. “Stand up, I got you.”

You didn’t have him. Sam was a large guy, his body overwhelming the little strength you had. You stumbled as he tried to stand up and you both gained your footing. Sam was bleeding, soaking his clothes and it was getting onto you.

“The hotel is just down this alley, we can make it, come on.” You said, trying to ignore the sound of Sam hissing in pain and choking on blood.

His nose was bleeding, and you didn’t realize how bad his injuries were until you stepped into the light of the motel.

Your hands were shaking and bleeding as you propped Sam against the wall and began fumbling for your room key. Sam had been sliced on his side, the blood completely soaked through his shirt.

The door clicked, and you swung it open, hurrying Sam inside.

He was still breathing heavily, from the pain and exhaustion, and you sat him on the bathroom floor.

Your eyes jumped from cabinet to towel rack to sink, trying to find everything you needed as quickly and efficiently as possible. You found the small ice bucket that motels kept by the sink and filled it with warm water while soaking a towel.

Sam grabbed for your attention with incoherent words.

“Hand me– flask?” He pointed at his bag, wincing in pain and grabbing his side once more.

You nodded, and hopped over his outstretched legs to the bed, shuffling through the front pocket to find a silver flask. Alcohol could help deter the pain, maybe?

Going back to Sam and the water bucket, you placed yourself on the floor next to him, trying to clean up the blood and stop what other wounds were still bleeding.

Now that you were in clear lighting, you could see everything. The dried blood under his nose, the scabbing scratches amongst his face, and the torn shirt and sliced skin from the knife.

“Sit still…” You hushed.

Sam sucked in air through his teeth and groaned when you pressed the rag against his side.

The bloody shirt wasn’t helping the situation, only blocking his actual wound.

“Here, take your shirt off.”

His look of pain subsided for a moment when he shot you a concerned glance.

“Sam, take off your shirt.” You said, keeping your voice serious.

“If I didn’t know you better I’d think you were hitting on me.” He said, giving you a weak smile, his voice gruff from the yelling and blood in his throat.

“Hush."

Sam sat up to the best of his ability, reaching above his head and pulling at the back of it. Something made him hesitate for a moment before looking at you, his expression somber and dull. He gritted his teeth and pulled the shirt off in one swift motion, partially reopening the wound and dropped the shirt on his stomach.

"They really got you good, huh?” You asked him, pressing the rag against his side and watching the blood soak into the cloth. His skin was warm to the touch, and you couldn’t help but glance at the edge of what looked like a scar underneath the shirt balled on his body.

“You could say that.” He tried to laugh, adjusting himself on the floor and unscrewing the cap of the flask before taking a sip.

You watched him intently and dipped the rag into the water while he sipped on the bitter drink that smelled of whiskey. He pressed his lips together from the strength of the alcohol and groaned from the lingering pain in his body.

“Hang on a sec.” You whispered, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Standing up, you made your way to your bed and began to dig through your stuff, looking for some bandage wrap you had stashed in case of an emergency. This could classify as one.

You heard Sam’s head hit the cabinet behind you and you turned around. He was at his weakest, and you were here, by his side.

His eyes were shut, possibly trying to ignore the throbbing in his side as you knelt next to him.

“I have a bandage I can wrap you with.” You said, unknowing of why you were short of words.

Sam let a smile appear on his face again and leaned forward so you could wrap the bandage around his body.

A silence washed over you and the buzz of the air conditioning was the only noise that accompanied the both of you. You began to wrap his side, getting closer to Sam than you ever imagined would be possible on this trip. You reached around his body, your head next to his chest, and you could hear his breathing, and what you could swear was his heartbeat.

You leaned back after pinning the bandage into place, and Sam returned his hand over the wound.

You turned yourself around and leaned your back on the cabinet to match Sam, outstretching your legs next to him. His eyes were closed tightly, while yours were peeking at the scar on his abdomen.

You didn’t notice, but he caught you out of the corner of his eye when he opened them to look at you. Your attention was drawn to him clearing his throat and you tilted your head to watch his face.

“Prison.” He said, pulling the shirt fall off, revealing the two other scars that laid underneath.

“Huh?"

"The scars. I got them in prison."

His foot bobbed back and forth as he spoke.

"Prison?” You asked, your voice quiet as you stared at the jagged, circular scars. You tried to dissuade your thoughts from entering panic mode at the thought of sitting next to a criminal. “What for?”

Sam rocked his head against the cabinet, shaking it and attempting to keep his laughs at bay. It hurt too much.

“No, no…” he took a deep breath and sighed. “We paid to get in to the prison at first, but ah–” his voice drifted off, lost in thought.

A few seconds passed before he continued, pulling himself out of his memories.

“Well, we ended up killing a guard. We were pretty much had no choice but to run, so that’s what we did.”

He had yet to explain where the gunshot scars came from, but you decided to remain quiet and let him tell what he wanted.

“I almost made it out. On the last jump, I fell short and my brother caught me but it was too late.” He said, placing his hand over the scars. “I was riddled with bullets and lost consciousness, and I slipped out of his hands.”

Words couldn’t surface. No matter how much you wanted to speak, nothing would come up, nothing would come out. The quiet was unbearable, and Sam opened his eyes to check on you.

“Fifteen years in that prison."

You shook your head. You no matter how hard you tried, you could not muster any words.

You did what first came to mind. You placed your hand on top of his, laying above his scars.

His breath hitched, unsure of the touch, and you understood. His hand slipped from underneath yours, pressing his palm onto the top of your hand. Your fingers spread across his stomach, and you felt the jagged edges of the scars, indented in his skin.

"Thank you for earlier.” You said quietly, and he lifted his hands, tucking them under his arms, leaving your hand on his abdomen. “But why?”

“Why what?” Sam questioned, letting his eyebrows raise.

“Why protect me?” You brought your hand back to your side and rested it on your chest. “Instead of running you fought that guy. If he hit you right, you would be dead.”

Sam lolled his head to the side, letting his eyes meet with yours.

“For the same reason you’re here right now. Because I care.”

The words hit you like knives. You broke his eye contact almost instantly. Were you going to cry? Oh, god, it felt like you were going to cry.

“Everyone deserves to have someone care.” His voice was gentle, and somehow it made the words more severe.

You bit your cheek and folded your arms together, trying to fight back the wave of emotions that Sam managed to cause.

You watched for a moment as he struggled to get up, reaching for anything to get a grip and pull himself up on. You were the only option.

You arose to your feet and reached down for him to grab ahold of, and almost toppled onto him as he pulled down with his weight to heave himself up. Once he did, you both exhaled from the struggle and Sam stumbled to his bed.

He was still in dirty jeans and his shoes were still on, unshowered and remnants of dirt from the early on expedition lingered around his body. Dried blood was splotched over his side and face. He was filthy.

“Don’t you want to clean up or anything?” You returned to the bathroom and dumped the bucket of bloody water into the sink.

Sam stared at the wall. You thought he didn’t hear you, but before you began to repeat yourself, he spoke up.

“Ladies first.”

You pressed your lips together in a small smile and made your way to your bed to grab your things.

“You better take a shower tonight though, you smell awful.” You teased as you walked back into the bathroom.

“I could say the same.” Sam responded, and you shut the door.

A hot shower never felt so good. You let the water wash over you, the blood and dirt from the day going down the drain. Your hands stung from the splinters of wood lodged inside, and soap was almost impossible to lather from the pain, but you had to deal with it. If Sam could get cut by a knife in the side, then you could bear with some splinters.

You finished with the shower and dried off, the steam from the water fogging up the mirror. Smiling to yourself, you leaned against the countertop and began to write on the mirror.

The door opened and Sam was woken up from his half-asleep daze as you walked across the room in your pajamas, drying off the rest of your hair with a towel.

“Your turn.” You said, placing your things on the floor and crawling into your bed, pulling the covers over your body and watching Sam get up.

He closed the door behind him and a clear spot on the fogged mirror caught his attention. Sam smiled and shook his head, reading the message scribbled in the corner next to a poorly drawn beer mug.

_To the treasure._


	4. Mysterious Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning arrived and with a new companion involved, you and Sam get the opportunity to get closer to the treasure and the pendant. You just need to dress for the part.

_The pitch black, lonesome hours of the night are the perfect time for someone to go missing._

_The Boss had his strategy worked out perfectly. He tracked down whoever betrayed him or who he distrusted. His men snagged them in the middle of the night. They are brought to the warehouse. And then, The Boss takes care of them._

_The papers you were studying had your attention until the sound of someone struggling against a chair drew it away. He was crying, groaning, coughing._

_He was facing away from you, the light from the full moon providing the only visibility in the building. The man’s silhouette was blended with the chair._

_Storage crates provided the perfect hiding. Looking back, you wished you would have never watched._

_The Boss’s voice came from the shadows. It overpowered the whimpering of the man in the chair._

_“No artifact… again?” A flame from the lighter brought view to the shadows of The Boss’s face. Large. Withered. Angry. The end of his cigar glowed, marking his position in the warehouse._

_“I told you… It was gone. Probably has been gone for years.” The man spoke through his teeth… or the blood in his mouth. You couldn’t tell._

_The Boss stepped out into the small circle of light that illuminated the middle of the floor._

_“You know the consequences.” The Boss said under his breath, grabbing his revolver from his holster._

_The man began to panic. He strained against his cuffs that were wrapped around the back of the chair._

_“Please! I can find the next one!” His voice was desperate, and you could practically hear the tears fall from his face._

_The Boss spun the cylinder of the revolver. 6 chambers. 1 shot._

_He pressed the barrel against the man’s head. His desperate pleas faded into incoherent muttering._

_“I’ve given you plenty of chances.” The Boss said, pulling the trigger._

_Click._

_The man let out a panicked exhale, his breath shaking with every word._

_“Please, sir, I’ll do anything, I’ll—I’ll find anything!”_

_The Boss cocked the revolver again._

_“It’s plain to me that you’re incapable.”_

_Click._

_The man couldn’t utter any more noise. His handcuffs rattled against the chair from the shaking of his body._

_Click._

_“I have a family!”_

_Click._

_“I have children!”_

_Click._

_5 blank chambers have been fired. 6 chambers in the barrel._

_The man’s head was slumped. He gave up. There was no more fighting it. He knew it was the end._

_The only sounds he made were sobs and last gasps for air._

_The Boss’s fingers tightened on the trigger._

_Cli-_

Your eyes shot open in a panic, breathing heavily with a bead of cold sweat running down your temple. The fear jolted through your body, and you were sitting up in the bed, clutching your chest. Your heart was pounding.

“Hey, hey, hey— woah there, tiger…” Sam said from the corner of the room, sitting at the work desk. “You alright?”

You had momentarily forgotten where you were, forgotten that Sam was with you, and only remembered the night you watched The Boss kill someone in cold blo-

“You okay?”

Sam’s voice brought you back to the world of reality, and you stared at him blankly before pressing your palms against your eyes. You shook your head slightly, muttering something that he couldn’t quite understand.

Sam’s phone buzzed against the wooden desk where he sat, and almost immediately, three knocks at the door followed. He ignored them at first, watching you intently while you rubbed your face, running your hands up and through your hair.

Three more knocks at the door finally caught Sam’s attention, and he stood up from the desk, stopping by your bed on the way out.

“Are you going to be alright for a few minutes?” He asked, grabbing his shirt from the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“A smoke.”

“Who is at the door?”

“Just a friend. I’ll be back in a sec.” He said, reaching over and nudging your shoulder with reassurance before stepping outside.

He looked at you one last time and closed the door behind him, greeting the one and only Victor Sullivan.

“You could’ve told me when you were gonna be here, Victor.” Sam said.

“And you could have given me more than a 24-hour notice.” Victor’s gruff voice responded before a small pause, running his eyes up and down Sam. “Christ, Sam, you couldn’t have had the decency to put on a goddamn shirt?”

Sam rolled his eyes with an offended laugh, attempting to lift his arm to reveal the blood-stained bandage around his side.

“Kinda hard when I can barely lift my arms.” Sam watched at Victor leaned to the side to see the entirety of the wound.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Not important.” Sam said, taking the shirt in his hands and attempting to pull it over his head. “I need to ask you about the treasure.” He said, his voice strained from the pain of putting on his shirt.

“Are you talking about that pendant?”

“Please tell me you got us into that banquet.”

“Us?” Victor crossed his arms. “I thought this was just for you.”

“There’s a girl in my room.” Sam started before Victor interrupted once more.

“Jesus, Sam. Can you focus on the treasure without trying pick up a girl?”

Sam shook his head.

“Would you just listen?” Sam’s voice was aggravated.

Victor remained where he stood, quiet and attentive.

“Something is… is—off about her.” Sam said, his voice hushed. “No one would want only one piece of treasure out of the millions that it could be worth.”

“What are you saying?” Victor questioned. “That she has an alternative motive?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is that something isn’t right.” Sam leaned on the wall, fidgeting with a cigarette that he had pulled out of his pocket.

A moment of silence passed over the two men until Sam spoke up.

“So, can you get us into the banquet?”

“Sam, I’m already pulling strings just getting you into this damn thing.” Victor said, shaking his head.

“Victor, please.” Sam begged. “She is the only reason we are this close to the treasure in the first place. She’s the one that burnt the notebook, so she’s the only one with the clues.”

Victor let out a disappointed sigh, unfolding his arms and dropping them to his side in defeat.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Sam gave Victor a grateful smile, and was startled when the door opened from behind him.

You stood in the doorway, now fully dressed, and your eyes flicked back and forth between Sam and the stranger that was with him.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” You asked, slowly shutting the door behind you.

“Ah—no, no you’re fine.” Sam said, putting his hand on your shoulder, motioning his other towards Victor.

“This is my friend, Victor Sullivan.” Sam said, watching as you reached out to shake his hand with no hesitation.

You introduced yourself, shaking his hand and giving him a smile.

“You can just call me Sully.” He said, smiling back at you.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said before turning back to Sam. “Um, is there a reason why my notebook is out of my bag?”

Sam exchanged glances with Sully and looked back at you.

“Is there something wrong with trying to speed up the process of finding the treasure?”

“There is something wrong with going through my stuff.” You retorted, crossing your arms, tapping your foot impatiently on the carpet.

Victor sensed that it was time to leave.

“I’ll go ahead and make those phone calls.” He said, stepping away from you and Sam, giving a quick wave before disappearing down the hall.

Your confusion was apparent to Sam, and he decided to clarify and try to escape from the tension.

“By chance do you have any formal dresses?” He asked, watching as a couple exited their room a few doors down the hall.

“A dress? What do I need a dress for?”

Sam opened the door once more to the room, gesturing for you to walk inside.

“Victor is going to try and get both of us into a banquet. Historians, archeologists, plenty of professionals in the field are going to be there. If anyone has any other clues as to where this treasure is, it’s going to be these people.”

“I don’t have any dresses, let alone anything nice.” You looked back to your bag full of dirty clothes and exploring gear.

“Can you get yourself one?” He asked while digging through his own bag, pulling out a wrinkled suit and bowtie.

You hesitated in responding. Sure, The Boss provided you with almost everything you needed, including money. However, it didn’t mean that he liked it.

“I guess so.” You shrugged.

Sam’s phone began to buzz again, Victor’s name appearing on the screen.

“Can you grab that?” Sam asked, and you picked up the phone, swiping to answer.

“Hello?” You asked, tucking your hand under your arm and pressing the phone to your ear.

“Can you tell Sam that I got you both in?” Sully said from the other end of the line.

“Of course.”

With that, the conversation was over, and Victor thanked you before hanging up. You placed the phone back onto the side table, and turned back to Sam, who was struggling to set up the ironing board.

“So, I guess I need to go look for a dress?” You asked, and Sam seemed too busy trying to gather his clothes for the night to answer.

Everything suddenly seemed secretive. You had missed a whole conversation between Sam and Sully. You were slightly paranoid that they had plotted something behind your back. The night before seemed like you had finally established trust with Sam. He had finally opened up to you, and admitted that he cared as much as you did, though you hated to admit it.

“What? Oh—yes! Do you want me to come with?” Sam asked, pressing the iron against his tuxedo jacket.

“I’m fine,” You said, pulling your small purse onto your shoulder. “I’ll be back shortly.”

You left the room without another word and hailed a taxi when you stepped outside. In broken French, you asked the driver to take you to the nearest boutique.

You watched the small town pass by through the window of the car, the brown buildings standing out against the cloudless blue sky. The driver pulled to the side, and you gave him the fare before stepping out of the car and walking into the small shop.

Dresses lined the walls and you were taken aback. They all looked pricey. Very pricey. You sucked in air through your teeth and began to search, starting in the sales section.

An attendant stopped by and asked you if you needed any help, and while you did, you decided to stay away from the sales suggestions that she would most likely make.

A sleek black dress caught your attention, trapped between a puffy white dress and a short blue cocktail dress. You pulled it from the hanger, and figured it would suffice until you looked at the price tag. Even when it was on sale, The Boss would not like the chunk it took from his money.

You thought for a moment. This was a night to make a good impression, to further get your hands on the pendant. At least that is what Sam would say. You continued thinking to yourself while walking to the dressing room.

As you slid on the dress, the fit was too perfect to pass up. The feel was different. You had not had a moment where you needed to dress up, to make yourself look nice, and to treat yourself to a pampering.

You turned in the mirror, watching yourself. It wasn’t you, but then again, did you even know who you were? Last time you checked, you were a puppet, doing and going wherever and whatever The Boss told you.

You found yourself checking out with the dress wrapped in your arms. You couldn’t tell what the rush you felt was. Was it a rush of rebellion? A rush of self-love? Whatever it was, it felt refreshing.

While he was waiting for you to come back, Sam found himself back at the desk, plotting and tracking the points of the explorer through his journal entries. He tried further translating the notes, scribbling into your notebook sentences that you had yet to finish.

Sam had lost track of time, and his eyes darted to the door when he heard the handle wiggle, and put his pencil on the table when he saw you appear from behind it.

“Welcome back.” He said, and you gave him a smirk when you finally stepped inside.

You set the dress bag and a couple of bags from “accidental” shopping onto your bed and Sam smiled at you from across the room.

“Well?” He asked, leaning on his hand.

“Well what?” You replied, sitting on the edge, sorting through the makeup and extra accessories you had bought.

“Do I get to see it?”

You pretended to think, nodding your head to the side and back.

“I think you should wait.” You winked, and stood up to start getting ready.

Sam’s smile remained on his face as you stepped into the bathroom with your dress and your shopping bags, closing the door behind you.

You took a while to make your face look banquet ready, and tried to do your hair as elegantly as you could. The dress slipped on as easy as it did the first time, and you stared at yourself in the mirror as you added final touches. You swiped red lipstick onto your lips. You clipped in a couple of hair pins that sparkled.

You looked—happy. You felt happy. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, opening the bathroom door to the room.

A note was on Sam’s bed, and you picked it up after seeing that Sam wasn’t in the room.

_Went out for a smoke._

Slipping on your heels and pulling your purse onto your shoulder, you turned your head to the door when you heard a knock.

“You in there, ace?”

You swung the door open and Sam’s eyes widened, as if not recognizing you at first. You watched a smile appear on his face as he looked at your dress, at you, and his eyes connected with yours.

His tuxedo was finally ironed and flat, and you had to admit that he looked sharp. The collar of his shirt hid all except one of the four birds on his neck, and you let your eyes trace up and down his body.

“You ready?” He held out his arm for you to take ahold of, and you obliged with a smile, receiving one from Sam in return.

He smelled of fresh cigarette smoke. The tuxedo jacket was soft to the touch. His warmth was comforting. His smile was genuine.

He looked ahead when you wrapped your hands around his arm, and the both of you walked down the hallway.

The hall was quiet except for your footsteps against the carpet and the buzzing of the lights overhead. Instead of unsettling, the lack of noise was giving you a sense of serenity. Your mind was blank. For the first time, you had no worries, no paranoia. You were at peace with yourself.

Everything felt _right._


	5. Two Hearts Beat As One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the banquet finally arrived. Pressure is building as time is running out, but Sam insists on having a good time.
> 
> PSA: If you really want to set the scene for this chapter, go listen to Frank Sinatra's "The Way You Look Tonight" while reading. It makes it perfect!

Perfect moments don’t last forever.

In fact, you never realize the moment was perfect until it’s gone.

The French countryside seemed to span for eternity from the back of the rental car. Fields had sheep and livestock sprinkled throughout the long grass. They grazed peacefully, without worry, and you wished you could do the same.

Victor sat at the driver’s seat, Sam in the passenger’s seat, and you sat in the back. Although Victor wasn’t attending the banquet, Sam insisted that he act as the getaway driver. According to him, things could go haywire. Apparently, it’s happened before.

The banquet was being held at a historic manor, isolated in the endless fields. You could see the large, castle-like building from the edge of the pastures. The manor was huge. Bigger than you had expected, and much bigger than Sam had described it on the way.

The driveway welcomed dozens of cars, circling a detailed limestone fountain that was placed in the center. Surrounded by hedges and blooming flowers, statues of goddesses stood above the water, welcoming every guest that passed by it.

The sun was beginning to set. Illuminating the manor in a golden light. It made everything you saw almost—heavenly.

Victor pulled the car into the driveway, letting Sam step out of the car before going to the back and opening the door for you.

“I’m trusting you two to behave!” Victor called from inside the car, and Sam waved him off with a laugh.

You followed by Sam’s side as Victor drove away, leaving the both of you in front of the manor. Walking up the steps to the large wooden doors, you were greeted when you reached the inside.

You were breathless, taken aback from the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the gold-plated archways that welcomed you into each room, and the ambience of the entire banquet.

Mesmerized, you didn’t see Sam immediately slip away from your side. You moved into the next room, letting your fingers drag across the marble pillars that lined the walls.

The band in the main ballroom set the pace for the party, playing universal tunes that everyone from any country would recognize. Mixed conversations buzzed throughout the ballroom.

Sam caught up to you and returned to your side, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on finding the treasure?” You asked, receiving a smile from Sam.

“What, we can’t have a little fun?” He nudged you with his side. “Let loose a little, c’mon.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and you both gazed around the room, attempting to eavesdrop on any conversations that could be mentioning the treasure.

“You hear anything?” He asked, taking a sip from his glass and pressing his lips together.

“Nothing.”

You circled the ballroom almost twice, walking slowly past groups who were gathered and talking about museum collections, archeological digs, and historical landmarks. No one mentioned anything about the treasure. You shot him a worried glance and he gave you a reassuring smile.

“It’ll be fine.”

The band on stage took a small break, shuffling through their papers for the next song.

You glanced at Sam through the corner of your eye, seeing him still bobbing his head slightly to the beat of the previous song, pressing his glass to his lips.

The instrumentalists returned to their stands, counting themselves off and beginning to play.

The saxophones and cymbals set the pace for the song, the musicians tapping their feet to keep time.

Sam’s eyes lit up when he recognized the tune. He raised his eyebrows, almost choking on his drink, before he hurriedly set it on the table that was behind him.

He looked at you excitedly, a smile spread across his face like a little kid. You tilted your head and squinted before he approached you. Sam held out his hand to pull you into a dance, and you stood back, wrapping your hand around your other arm.

“I’ll pass.” You said quietly.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t danced before.” He said, tilting his head down and raising his eyebrows.

You shook your head and received a scoff from Sam.

“I can’t say I have… at least in this setting.” You looked over your shoulder and let your gaze drift around the room.

The vocalist stepped up to the microphone, mimicking the smooth voice of Frank Sinatra.

_Someday, when I’m awfully low_

Sam's smile softened as he watched your eyes follow the pairs of dancing couples move across the polished marble floor.

_When the world is cold, I will feel a glow_

He said nothing as he wrapped his hand over yours, placing it on his shoulder and holding your other, outstretched from your side. 

_Just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight_

He felt your body tense as he wrapped his hand around your waist. His eyes were reassuring, and you laughed nervously as he stepped back, and you followed with your foot.

_Yes, you’re lovely, with your smile so warm_

Sam watched you, the corners of his mouth upturned, while your eyes focused on the steps. Forward, to the side, to the back, to the side. He would stifle a laugh when you would stumble, pulling you closer for more stability.

_And your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me_

“I’d say you’re a natural.” He whispered.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed, lifting your hand and giving his shoulder a playful slap.

_But to love you, and the way you look tonight_

Sam held you tighter as he began to spin, and you tried not to lose your balance. The steps came naturally now, your eyes still glued to the floor, and you were blind to the way Sam was looking at you.

_With each word, your tenderness grows_

You heard Sam begin to hum the tune, and you looked up from your feet.

_Tearing my fear_

He began to sing, fixing his gaze with yours, his face glowing with a smile.

_“Apart.”_

You couldn’t hold back a giggle, squinting at him as he continued to sing, now rocking in unison and flowing together, without a care.

_“And that laugh, wrinkles your nose,”_

“I didn’t know you could sing.” You teased, feeling his hand slip further down your back.

_“Touches my foolish heart!”_

He held your hand, and you followed his lead, spinning underneath his arm until he pulled you into another embrace.

_“Lovely,”_

Your hands moved up his arms and draped around his neck, your fingers tracing over one of the small birds that peeked over the collar of his shirt.

_“Never, never change.”_

Your head tilted up to look at him, feeling his hands hold your waist. They were slowly trailing to your hips.

_"Keep that breathless charm,”_

“I wouldn’t pin you for a Sinatra fan.” You smiled.

You stared at every feature that defined him, the small scar under his eye, the healing scabs from the night before. Even with the injuries, the imperfections, he still managed to be—perfect. 

_“Won’t you please arrange it?”_

Sam’s singing trailed off after the line, becoming lost in your eyes, lost in your smile, lost in you.

_Cause I love you_

His hands were now on your waist, pulling you in as close as you could be.

_Just the way you look tonight_

The music came to a slow halt and the vocalist hummed, singing the last line as he drew out the final note.

You could feel the closeness of Sam’s face to yours, the heat from his body radiating onto you. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you were simply helpless.

Your heart was beating fast; you swore Sam could feel it. You could practically feel the touch of his lips already, longing for it. Your eyes slowly closed with his, leaning in closer.

Sam’s phone began vibrating in his back pocket and he opened his eyes, looking down and away from you. You felt his hands leave your waist and you let your hands drop from his neck.

He laughed nervously, pulling out his phone and looking away.

“It’s ah—it’s Sully. I’ll take this.”

You motioned to the bar with an anxious laugh.

“I—I’m gonna get a drink.” You whispered, and he nodded, putting the phone to his ear and the other in his pocket.

“Great timing.” Sam sighed with annoyance. “What is it?”

“I’m just checking in. No wild gunfire yet?”

“Last time I checked, we weren’t pulling a heist.” Sam leaned against the wall.

“Who pissed in your cereal? Geez, kid, I didn’t mean to interrupt your flirt session or whatever the hell you were doing.” Sully said from the other end. “Just focus on getting the information, alright?”

You weaved through groups chatting in broken languages, all trying to understand each other, until you finally reached the bar.

“Champagne, s’il vous plaît.” You said, and looked over your shoulder to see Sam hanging up the phone call.

The bartender placed the glass on the countertop, and you pulled out a few coins to drop into his tip jar.

Looking back once more, Sam had moved across the room and joined a conversation amongst what looked to be more professionals in the field.

Sam motioned you over to the small group of men and women gathered in a circle. Chills ran up your spine when you felt his hand drag against your lower back, and he smirked at you slyly.

They were talking about what you were searching for. The lost treasure. The pendant. You swirled your glass and took a sip as you tried to grab ahold of the conversation.

“Turns out, clues say that it’s not even here.”

“Where do you think it would be?” A woman with a thick Spanish accent asked.

“Clues point to Senegal, but that’s all we know. He wasn’t trying to give us a treasure hunt, you know.”

Everyone in the group laughed, except for you and Sam. You felt Sam’s thumb stroke your back with his thumb.

“What do you mean?” You asked with a nervous smile.

A small bald man turned to you, taking the last sip from his glass of red wine.

“Do you think with something as valuable as that treasure, he would keep it all in one place? Of course not! He would want to separate it and hide it!” His enthusiasm stung and you shared a worried glance with Sam.

The man continued to talk as you downed your glass of champagne all too quickly.

“Nancy’s crew just found a missing page to his journal. There was a map of Africa, a trail pointing to the coast of Senegal. It all makes sense to me!”

Sam noted your empty drink, looking at you questioningly to see if you wanted another. Without saying a word, you nodded, and he took your glass, leaving for the bar.

“So, what about the pendant? Do you think he hid it by itself?”

“That’s what we’re thinking. He would have most likely kept it to himself, maybe where he lived? Where he stowed away?” The man was questioning himself, and you were getting impatient.

“Could it be in a cove, or a cavern, where he thought no one would care to look?”

You bit your cheek when he began to speak again, excited that you asked another question.

“They already found an abandoned tunnel system that they are looking through now.” He pushed up his glasses. “What a major find that would be!”

Exclaims of agreement came from the rest of the group. They nodded their heads, sprouting into another conversation.

Your hands began to shake. The pendant was further than you had expected. You had been wasting all this time in the wrong place. There were already teams looking for the pendant. It was only a matter of time until it was gone.

Turning away from the group as they dispersed for more drinks and further conversation, you wrapped your arms around yourself. You could feel your life vanishing with every breath you took.

You frantically looked around to find Sam, your eyes darting to find somewhere to go. The room felt like it was closing in. Tears began to form in your eyes and your breathing became frenzied. You needed to get out.

The nearest exit was the courtyard. You quickly ran down the steps into the grass. Lit only by the now dark sunset and string lights around the trees and shrubbery, no one was gathered inside to escape the oncoming dark.

You collapsed on a nearby marble bench, throwing your head into your hands, unable to stop the sobbing. How were you going to escape The Boss? You were running out of time. The moment he figured out the pendant is in someone else’s hands, that you were not two steps ahead, he would have his men on the search for you. You would be taken care of within the next day.

The sun had finally disappeared behind the horizon, leaving only the stars behind. The tears had made your makeup runny, eyeliner and mascara forming small streaks down your cheeks. Your face was buried in your hands, pressing against your eyes to stop the crying. Nothing was working.

Sam thanked the bartender and grabbed your extra glass of champagne, turning to face where the group was. He narrowed his eyes when he didn’t see you, but spotting the scattered members of the group throughout the ballroom.

Setting the glass on a nearby table, Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way through the manor. He peeked his head into every room, looking for the familiar sight of your face. He began to get worried, running his hand through his hair before disappearing into another room.

The crying came in waves. You would sigh, thinking it was over, but the thought of the pendant and The Boss would send you back into choked sobs as you struggled to wipe your face. You held your breath when you heard footsteps on the patio, and shut your eyes tighter when they approached.

“There you are! I was wondering where you wandered off t—“ Sam’s voice drifted off with concern. “Y/N?”

He was now standing behind you, hesitating to move, unsure of what was going on.

“A—are you okay?”

“No…” You shook your head, still attempting to cover your face. “No, I’m not.”

Sam’s eyebrows lifted with worry.

“What’s going on?” You heard him move from behind to sit next to you, but you dared not to lift your head. He didn’t need to see you like this.

The thought of telling Sam the truth was enough to send you into another wave of tears. You tried to hold them back, but the overwhelming guilt and shame was too much.

You felt Sam’s hand softly touch your shoulder. You lifted your head to look at him, and you watched as his expression softened with concern. His eyes followed your hands as you wiped away the streaks of tears from your face. His thumb moved across your shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

“It’s about the treasure.” Your voice quivered with every word, and it was a challenge to pronounce them so Sam could understand. “The pendant.”

“What about it?”

“I- I lied to you…” You added and you felt his hand freeze on your skin.

“What?” He asked, his voice a whisper. His eyebrows furrowed, and you weren’t sure if you should go on.

“I, um…” You started, fidgeting with your hands. You tried to make your words as less threatening as possible. “My life depends on getting this pendant.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed with confusion, yet he remained quiet.

“If I do not get this pendant…” Your voice trailed off, being silenced by tears. You took a deep breath. “I’m going to die.”

Sam shook his head, his hand now tracing down your arm and ended up back in his lap. His hands folded between his legs.

“I don’t understand.”

You took another deep breath, trying to regain your composure and explain further.

“My boss, he doesn’t trust me. This is basically… a final test. And if I don’t pass…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence, and looked up to the star spotted sky.

“I’ll be dealt with for good.”

Sam was quiet. You were unsure if he was trying to figure out what you meant, or if he was angry that you had lied. You couldn’t tell.

“What kind of messed up son of a bitch would do that?” His eyes searched your face for answers.

Your eyes flushed with tears again.

Sam sat in silence. He bit his lip in thought, turning to you as you spoke.

“I don’t want to die.” You whispered, looking to the courtyard. You weren’t trying to hold back the shakiness in your voice anymore.

“Hey, listen to me.” Sam said softy, running his hand under your chin and tilting your head so his eyes met yours. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

Your eyes dropped from his after staring at him with blank eyes.

“I promise they won’t lay a finger on you.”

He let his hand drop from your chin.

“I’ll have Sully fly us out tomorrow, we’ll be there in no time. We’ll find it.”

You furrowed your brows, and your eyes narrowed.

“Sam—“ You tilted your head. “What about the rest of the treasure?”

Sam shook his head slowly, reaching over and taking your hand into his. His other tucked a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear, tracing his fingers down your jawline.

“That’s not important anymore.”


	6. I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the night at the banquet, you realize you had finally found someone you trusted. The search continues in Senegal where you can practically feel your freedom.

Sometimes it only takes a few words, a simple gesture from one specific person to tear down the walls that you had spent years building. Years that you had taught yourself to trust no one, to get jobs done by yourself, to bottle up your emotions, and to not let anyone in, no matter who they were or what they did.

Yet Sam was the one to tear it all down.

You both sat in the courtyard, side by side, in a silence that overcame the two of you.

Sam watched as your eyes flushed with tears again, but this time, Sam cradled your face, wiping away the tear that rolled down your cheek.

You pressed your cheek into his palm, and his hand drifted behind your neck.

“Come here…” He whispered, gently pulling you in his direction.

He enveloped you into a hug. You pressed your face into the nape of his neck, curling your fingers into his shirt. You felt his breathing, and he felt the warmth of your cheek against his skin.

It was what you needed. In that instant, everything you had built up, all of the walls you surrounded yourself with, came crashing down. You had been broken.

You would have never thought that someone you had met two days earlier, a smart-mouthed, rough around the edges, scoundrel would end up meaning so much to you.

You shut your eyes, feeling his hand run across your back. Between breathing in the smell of his cologne, the smell of cigarettes lingering on his clothes, you felt— content.

You began to pull away from the hug, your lips barely tracing along his jawline as you drew back.

You were close. Closer than the night in the hotel room. Closer than when you were dancing with him.

Your eyes met again once more before your eyes dropped to the soft smile on his face.

And you kissed.

It was short, sweet, gentle. It was everything you needed, and everything you wanted. It only lasted seconds before it was over, and you pulled away; your face flushed red. The touch of his lips still lingered, and you never wanted it to leave.

You both shared a quiet laugh when Sam’s smile faded away.

He cleared his throat and you looked away into the courtyard, your hand resting on his leg.

After a moment of thought, he lifted his head again and turned to you.

“What do you say we take advantage of the booze here, yeah?”

A smile pressed against your lips.

“I could use a drink.”

Sam stood up from the bench, holding his hand out for you.

You walked by his side and entered the building once more, parting ways to go to the bar. He had suggest another drink to ease your mind, perhaps a stronger one, and to take advantage of the alcohol.

You only remembered joining with Sam after he came back from the bathroom before the alcohol began to hit. The rest was a blur.

 

* * *

 

The morning came too early, taking away from the events of the night.

The combination of sunlight bleeding through the shut curtains and the smell of coffee pulled you out of your sleep. The clock beside you read 10:00 A.M., and you were surprised Sam had let you sleep in.

The side of your head ached, and you began to realize your change in clothes. Or lack thereof.

You were only wearing a shirt. It wasn’t even yours.

You shot up in the bed, grimacing and grabbing your head and turning to look at Sam sitting in the corner.

“Why the hell am I naked? Or— wearing this?”

“Well, good morning sunshine.”

You blinked, suddenly realizing you didn’t remember much from the night. You pulled the covers to your chest in shame.

“Oh— Oh my god… did we—? Please don’t tell me we—“ You stammered, and you received a laugh from Sam.

“What? No. No, you were drunk. You wanted to change your clothes and go to bed, so that’s what you did.” He let his eyes drift back to the newspaper that sat on the table and sipped from his styrofoam coffee cup.

“But this is— it’s your shirt.” You looked down at the brown v-neck that was several sizes too big.

“You wanted to wear it.”

You furrowed your brows and turned to look at the clock. You could only envision Sam watching as you drunkly tried to get yourself out of a dress and into clothes, and you wondered if Sam had helped you at all.

Sam rustled the newspaper and your eyes trailed back to him.

“When is Victor coming?” You asked, desperate to change the subject.

“On his way right now. You better put some pants on.” Sam smirked.

You shot him an icy stare, tossing off the covers and pulling the shirt as low as possible as you shuffled into the bathroom.

The fan was obnoxiously loud as you began to brush your teeth and change into your other clothes, but something caught the corner of your eye. A tint of red drew your attention to inside the shower.

Quietly, you pulled back the curtain to reveal a blood stained towel that had attempted to be rinsed. It was dripping into the tub below. You tilted your head questioningly. It wasn’t the towel that you had used the night that you had both gotten mugged.

You chose to ignore it, thinking Sam had accidentally reopened a wound from trying to help your clumsy self from the night.

Sam lifted his head from his hands when he heard the bathroom door open once more, adjusting himself in his seat with a pained groan.

Thankfully you didn’t hear. He stood up, placing a smile on his face.

“Ready to go?” You asked turning around and grabbing your bags from the end of your bed.

His smile quickly faded, and he dragged his hand across his mouth, looking down and back at the paper.

The headline read: Search for treasure leads treasure hunters to Senegal.

“As I’ll ever be…”

* * *

You joined Sullivan at a nearby dock, boarding his old plane that had gone through some stress before, and you noted the bullet holes in the paneling.

He greeted the both of you and you loaded your bags into the cargo hold, boarding the plane and preparing yourself for what may lie ahead.

After hours of flying, the coast of Senegal became visible. You spotted several boats on the shore marked with the logos of mercenaries. You were dropped off, and endured several more hours of trekking through brush until the eerie entrance of a tunnel system greeted you from behind thick vines.

The entire time you hiked, the anxiety of the pendant loomed. You couldn’t go a few minutes without thinking about it, and Sam watched as your hands would begin to shake.

The tunnel system was dark, and Sam let out a half-hearted laugh beside you.

“Look familiar?” He joked.

“I wish it didn’t.” You replied.

Sam’s smile quickly vanished while he watched you walk ahead and disappear into the black of the tunnels. He looked over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes, before turning back and following you inside.

The sound of water droplets dripping into puddles and pebbles being kicked was the only noise that accompanied you and Sam through the tunnels.

Without the missing journal page or any information beside the tunnels, you needed to choose which paths to take, which directions to go, and to try not to end up dying in the process.

A fork in the path halted your ongoing march to nowhere.

“Be careful…” Sam’s voice came from behind. “If we are in the right place— there are gonna be traps everywhere.”

You stood still, taking his advice and surveying your surroundings carefully. The air was stale.

“How far do you think this tunnel goes?” You asked, your echo bouncing off of the walls of dirt.

“No telling.” He shook his head.

You stepped forward, walking for a few more feet until you stopped once more.

You felt something snap under your feet, immediately knowing you had triggered a trap.

The floors, the walls, and the ceiling began to rumble around you. Small pebbles and stones started to fall from above and you heard Sam shout from behind you.

“Shit— GET DOWN!” Sam grabbed your arm and yanked down, jerking you away from underneath the falling debris.

You landed on top of Sam with a painful impact, and you felt him pull your head into his chest, his hands on the back of your head.

The rest of the ceiling collapsed behind you. You and Sam coughed from the dust in your lungs.

Sam groaned from underneath you, waving the dirt away from his face.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, out of breath. “I’m good. You?”

Sam shut his eyes from pain and grabbed his forehead as you rolled off of him and into the dirt beside him.

The exhaustion from the adrenaline was quick to strike and you both laid silent while the dust began to settle.

You squinted, sitting up on your elbows.

“Son of a bitch…” You whispered.

The collapsed ceiling had blocked your path in the tunnels, but a new light poured from above, revealing a perfectly clear pathway that was hidden from before. A new wind draft blew from outside into the tunnel. It led somewhere that had been sealed off in secrecy.

“You gotta be kidding me…” Sam said in disbelief.

He watched you stand and begin to climb the small pile of rubble that acted like stairs.

“Hey, do you really think that’s safe?” Sam called out, grabbing his side and standing up to follow you.

You didn’t answer him. Focused on the new path ahead, the light bleeding from the end of the tunnel called to you, and you heard nothing except for your heart pounding.

You didn’t hear Sam calling out to you from behind, trying to stop you, trying to get you to slow down.

You only heard the sound of your footsteps crunching in the dirt, each step getting closer to where you needed to be. You had finally made it. You had beaten the mercenaries. You were the first one there.

Coming to a stop at the exit of the tunnel, you came face to face with the new light. A hidden landscape with the top of a building peeking above the trees was the first thing you spotted.

It had to be the building. The mansion that was sheltering the pendant was standing directly in front of you.

With no hesitation, you ran.

You heard Sam call out for you, but you were already gone, the feeling of your freedom closer than it has ever been before.

 


	7. With or Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Boss's threats are looming closer as you finally reached where the pendant is supposed to be. But things don't always go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thanks for tuning into the chapter. I know this is very intense but please bare with me, everything will be explained in the next chapter! Love you all!

**One Year Ago**

* * *

 

_You trusted him._

_That was your first mistake._

_He left you for dead. He left you on the ground, bleeding, with the chalice in his hands. He left you to deal with The Boss on your own._

_“Johnson, please!” You cried out, trying to stop the bleeding from your arm._

_“Sorry, sweetheart, but this is why you can’t trust anyone.” He knelt to you as you writhed on the ground. “Especially people like me.”_

_The last you saw of Johnson was his silhouette leaving the museum doors, and security barging through with their guns aimed at you._  

_The announcement of you being locked in a jail cell was not thrilling to The Boss. He was not happy to send one of his men to bail you out._

_You could see his annoyance, his anger, and his cold eyes as you sat before him in the empty shipping warehouse, a bandage wrapped around your arm._

_“Where is Johnson?”_

_You remained quiet, knowing any answer that you gave would be the wrong one._

_“Where is the chalice?”_

_“He took it.”_

_The Boss’s hand landed hot on your face, leaving a burning handprint on your cheek. The stinging on your face stayed, yet you had to hold back your tears or else there would be another._

_“You said you had it!”_

_You clenched your jaw, your hands folded in your lap, tightly holding each other. You didn’t look up, you just listened._

_“Once again, you’ve proven yourself to be worthless.” He walked behind your chair and you shut your eyes. “What do you have to say?”_  

_“I told you. Johnson ran off with it. He’s gone.” You said._

_The Boss went silent and you closed your eyes tighter._

_“Johnson, huh?”_

_You didn’t respond._

_You flinched when he shouted._

_“FUCK Johnson!” Johnson isn’t the one I wanted to get the chalice, it was you!”_  

 _Your eyes began to become cloudy with tears again, but this time, you were not able to hold them back._  

_“You were the one who was supposed to come back with it! Not fucking Johnson!”_

_He drew his hand back and you braced yourself, as he shouted once more._

* * *

Thunder boomed over the water. Victor warned you about the rise of bad weather while in the plane, and the sky was beginning to show it. Dark clouds were rolling in from the coast, bringing heavy winds and threatening lightning with it.

Sam let out a shaken sigh after you took off, running his hands through his hair. He rested them on the back of his neck. 

He watched you spin around and smile at him. It made his blood run cold. The light in your smile hurt. The joy and happiness you radiated hurt.

He needed a cigarette. His hands were shaking and his breath was short. Sam flicked on his lighter, the flame barely missing the cigarette from his trembling hands. He shouldn’t have to do this. He couldn’t do it.

The end of it lit up, glowing a dark orange. It got brighter as Sam took a drag, letting the smoke sit before exhaling heavily. He looked over his shoulder at you climbing down the cliff, and flicked the rest of the cigarette into the tunnel. 

You stopped at the bottom of the hill, a mansion still barely standing in the envelopment of trees and brush. You spun around, spotting Sam climbing down the cliff that led to the rotting house.

The house had the same smell as the cavern you had found the journal in. Moldy and full of mildew, the smell was overwhelming as you stepped inside.

The floorboards creaked under your feet, and you walked slowly across the main hall of the mansion. Dust rose off every surface you passed by, untouched by anyone for hundreds of years. 

“Where do we start?” You asked, running your hand across a shelf and shaking the dust from your fingers.

Sam was quiet behind you, not responding to your remark. His focus was directed at searching the building.

Your eyes scanned the ceiling, partially decomposed and collapsing, before you spoke once more.

“I guess we just start looking.” You said to yourself.

Sam watched you out of the corner of his eye as you made your way into another room.

You began to sort through what you could, looking for any clues that could lead you to the pendant. You knew it was in the house. Finding it, however, was going to be the new challenge. 

Room after room, you searched endlessly, but to no avail. The house was empty, stripped of clues, of any leads to where the pendant was, or where it would be. You began to doubt if it was even there.

“Can you come here for a second?” You called to Sam from what used to be the study.

He didn’t respond, and you called for him once more, stepping into the dark hallway.

The storm was close, and the rumbling and booming of thunder became quicker as it approached. Flashes of lightning was the only light besides your flashlight, and the house croaked as the winds blew against it. Rain began to sprinkle, rain drops falling through the open holes in the roof.

There was no noise coming from the rooms, and you slid your hand against the railing of the stairwell as you walked by. There was another room, hidden in the back. 

You squinted, the clouds covering the sun and taking away the light in the mansion. 

“Sam?” You asked quietly, peering into the last room.

A pair of hands grabbed your wrist, and you jumped in fear, turning around and holding back a punch when you realized it was Sam. His grip was harsh, and it caught you off guard.

“Jesus, Sam, what the hell?” You asked, pressing your hand to your chest.

“I don’t think we should go in there.” He said. His tone was different.

“What do you mean? Sam, this is the last room, it has to be in there!” You said impatiently, jerking your hand away from him.

Sam stepped in front of you, using his body as a blockade between you and the door. He gritted his teeth, his eyebrows knitted, and you locked eyes with him.

“You can’t go in there.”

“Sam, come on, the mercenaries are coming, we can’t screw around like this!” You insisted, attempting to make your way around him.

He grabbed your shoulders, holding you with force, and you fought against him. 

“I can’t let you go in there!” Sam said sternly, raising his voice and becoming all too threatening.

“Get off me!” You shouted, trying to twist out of his grip. “GET OFF!”

You thrashed and threw yourself onto the ground with a thud. 

Struggling to get to your feet, you rushed past him into the room, and Sam tried to grab for you again.

Your heart was pounding as you desperately felt around for anything that could be the pendant. The room was empty, and the hole in the roof let in a small stream of light before another cloud covered the sun, leaving you in the dark. 

“No, where is it?” You shuffled around in the debris, and frantically dashed past Sam into the main hall.

You were throwing things to the side, sliding papers around in the room. It had to be there. You were just missing the clues.

There were no clues.

You finally realized.

You accepted the defeat and dropped to your knees. 

It wasn’t there. 

It never was.

The transitions of your desperate ramblings to silence overcame the both of you, and your eyes widened as you felt the barrel of a gun touch the back of your head.

You froze, holding your breath, the shock rushing through your body. You didn’t want to look over your shoulder, yet you rose to your feet and turned around, completely powerless. The aim of Sam’s pistol landed between your eyes.

“Sam…” You said quietly, your voice quivering.

His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were cold and locked on yours. 

“You’ve been a good lead.” Sam stepped to the side, and placed himself in the middle of the room. “But you’re too late.”

“What are you talking about?” 

You noticed his hands were shaking and you slowly stepped towards him until he cocked the gun.

You stepped back again. 

“Sam, cut the shit! The mercenaries are going to be here; they’ve probably found the tunnel by now!” 

“The pendant has been long gone.” His eyes were hard on you. He didn’t move. 

Your chest rose and fell slowly but became quicker with panic. 

“No… no, no, no, please, no…” You said under your breath, grabbing your head and digging your fingers into your hair.

Your eyes darted around his face for any sign of lying. It couldn’t be true. He had to be lying, or messing with you, or just being an ass. Sam would never do this to you, it wasn’t like him, especially after rescuing you from the cavern, after patching him up, the banquet, the kis-- 

“H-how could you do this? You know my life depends on this!” 

His grip tightened on the trigger, but you couldn’t hold in your anger any longer.

“Who the hell do you think you are? I trusted you!” Your yells turned into screams, your face burning, stinging, and tears streaked down your cheeks.

“That was your first mistake.” He said lowly, his expression remaining stale.

“I should’ve known you were no good! You never cared! I don’t even know how I began to think that you cared!”  

The sound of the gun’s discharge made you flinch immediately, throwing your hands over your ears and shutting your eyes from the deafening gunshot. 

"Enough!" Sam shouted. His face was red, frustrated, angry.  

You slowly opened your eyes, and the expression on your face was enough to make him look away. Your eyes were wide, filled with disbelief, and your breath began to shake.

He almost shot you. He could have shot you.

"Sam--" 

"You were valuable to me. I needed you for the pendant." 

“Sam…” You pleaded. Your words were turning into shaken sobs.

He raised the gun into the air, pulling the trigger, again and again. 

Sam's gunshots were a signal. The mercenaries knew your location. They were on their way.

You turned around frantically.

"You better run." Sam said from behind you.

Your eyes searched for an escape. 

Thunder boomed again, the flash of lightning giving you the clear image of a man who you didn't know. 

A man who wasn't the Sam you knew. 

"Go!"

You had to run. 

You didn't care where you were going, you just needed to run.

The last thing you heard was something being thrown behind you.

It was Sam's pistol being thrown on the ground in a fit of anger. He shouted, slamming his fist on a half-broken shelf. 

You didn't look back.

You didn't hear his shouts of grief. 

You didn't see the regret in his eyes.


	8. In The Name Of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the banquet showed your side of the story, but what happened while you were gone? You didn't see everything that happened that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just letting you know that this ENTIRE chapter is a flashback to the night of the banquet!! Just so there isn't any confusion!

Sam never thought he would end up falling in love with you.

If he knew that you were going to become one of the people he would risk his life for, he would have never dragged you out from the cavern. He was only in it for the money and the information you had about the treasure.

Yet, after only two days of knowing him, you had managed to show him what it was like to feel genuinely special.

He felt _wanted._

The moment he kissed you, it was enough for him to realize he would do anything for you, anything to make you feel safe, and anything to protect you.

The night at the banquet, Sam watched you closely after you both walked inside. You had just told him the truth. At first, he didn’t know what to say. He did know, however, that the treasure didn’t matter. It was you who mattered.

He suggested that you went to get another drink and to take advantage of the free booze.

You shared a smile with him as you walked off. Sam turned to the ballroom and slowly strolled across the polished floors, listening for any remaining intel from the now diminishing crowd. Pairs were leaving as the night progressed, leaving the ballroom empty except for the stragglers that were lost in conversation.

Sam rocked on his heels, trying to eavesdrop on a couple whose words seemed promising. His eyes drifted to you at the bar but Sam kept his focus on the group.

You turned to wave at him, and Sam smiled back, but his smile quickly vanished when you turned away. Something pressed against his back. Sam lifted his head and held his breath as he heard someone speak behind him.

“Don’t move, or this gun fires.” The voice was gritty and deep. “Upstairs. The study. Unless you want a bullet through your head—and hers, you’d better do as I say.” He motioned his head towards you at the bar.

Sam’s eyes were searching for help, but between the intoxicated individuals and what was left of the lingering crowd, no one was watching. Not even you.

Stepping forward, Sam never felt the barrel of the gun leave his back. He made his way up the marble spiral staircase carefully, wary of the armed man behind him.

The two entered the study, the man not saying a word while he closed the door and twisted the lock. He flipped the light switch, bringing light to his scarred face, and Sam squinted at his surroundings.

The silence in the room was haunting until the man spoke.

“I suggest you listen to what I am about to tell you—“ The man began to say, pushing Sam further into the room.

Sam gritted his teeth and twisted around, throwing a fist before the man’s hand caught his wrist, bending his arm behind his back and slamming Sam’s head against the desk in the middle of the room.

“And don’t try to fight back.” The man hissed.

Sam grunted, his face smashed against the wooden desk, gasping for breath.

“What do you want?” Sam snapped. 

“What do you know about the pendant?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play fucking stupid with me.” The man said through gritted teeth, smashing Sam’s face into the desk again.

Sam’s angered expression quickly turned into a look of pain as the man jabbed two of his fingers into Sam’s side, in the exact spot of where the mugger had slashed him with a knife.

“Remember me?”

Sam cried out, squeezing his eyes shut and struggling against the desk. The pain shooting through his body was unbearable. Every move, every breath he took was filled with agony.

“You BASTARD!” He shouted, his voice cracking from the intense burn searing through his side.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Okay! OKAY!” Sam grunted, feeling his shirt become wet from blood.

“Tell me about the pendant! How close are you?” The man dug his fingers further into his gash, eliciting a pained shout from Sam.

“Stop!” Sam thrashed against the desk, trying to find any escape from the immense throbbing that was spreading to his chest. “STOP!”

“TELL ME!” The man yelled, giving one final stab.

The man pulled his hand away from Sam’s side, and Sam went silent, partially from relief and from the concentrated amount of pain that coursed through his body. The man grabbed Sam’s collar and turned him around, bringing them face to face.

“Are you working with her?" 

Sam’s mind was a blur and his thinking was obscured. He scrunched his eyebrows at the question.

“The broad, are you working with her?” The man repeated himself. 

Sam scowled and balled his fists. 

“I don’t have to tell you shit.” He spat. 

“You probably should.” The man chuckled, “Or she’s gonna be in for a surprise.”

The man slowly turned his fingers into the shape of a gun, slowly pressing them to his temple and pretending to pull the trigger.

Sam lunged at the man again. Almost effortlessly, he grabbed Sam’s throat, ramming him against the wall. Sam’s head hit the wall with a sharp impact.

Sam’s breath was heavy, mostly from the pain and sheer exhaustion from the struggling. The man’s hand left his neck and Sam was too tired to fight back.

“Look,” Sam said, looking down. “If you want the pendant, you can have it. Whatever you want with me, you can have. Just—just leave her out of it.”

“Can’t do that.” The man said, crossing his arms and watching Sam slump against the wall. “You see, I work for the same big guy that she does.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at the man’s comment.

“The thing is, she needs to be stopped from getting that pendant.” He paused, looking away from Sam.

“Why was she told to do this if you’re keeping her from reaching the pendant?” Sam asked, his anger building. “Who the hell is this twisted fuck that she’s working for?” 

“Listen, Romeo.” The man leaned on the desk, “Not my orders.”

The man’s eyes returned to Sam, who was now struggling to balance on his feet.

“I want you to be the one to stop her.” 

Sam shook his head.

“No.” Sam grabbed his side, attempting to straighten himself out.

“It’s better if I’m not involved.” The man added. “She doesn’t need to know.”

Sam held back a punch as a smug smile appeared on the man’s face.

“I’ve got a deal for you.” He stepped towards Sam. “We won’t touch a hair on her pretty little head—if you’re the one keeping her from getting to that pendant.” 

“And if I don’t?”

“You die. She dies.” The man’s expression turned stale. “You both die.”

The man turned around once more, taking slow paces across the room. He stopped before looking over his shoulder.

“Oh, and one more thing.” He reached the door, “If you tell anyone about this, the deal is off.”

Sam’s eyes drifted to the floor as the man left the room, turning back once more. 

“We’ll be watching.”

The door shut behind him, leaving Sam alone in the study. He was numb, his mind a haze of what had just happened. It didn’t feel real.

Sam limped down the staircase while holding his side. He needed to find a bathroom to wash his hands of the blood that had seeped through his shirt. Thankfully his jacket covered the rest.

His hands were shaking as he turned on the sink. The water turned red and Sam watched the blood run down the drain. 

He splashed his face with the cold water before setting his hands on the counter. Sam looked into the mirror, noticing the paleness of his face, the reopened cuts, and his emotionless eyes.

Sam pulled out his phone and messaged Victor to meet him out front. He shoved his phone in his back pocket and made his way down the stairs and you met him near the bar.

“Hey!” You smiled, “Where have you been?”

“Just needed to wash up.” He said, a wave of silence washing over him. “Should we meet Victor outside?”

Sam sighed when you turned to the foyer, relieved that you didn’t see any of the blood on his shirt. He figured the alcohol must be hitting you.

You stepped outside into the darkness and Sam stood by your side, cautiously looking for anyone that seemed to be spying.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was paranoid. After becoming aware that you had been followed through the caverns, through France and everywhere you went, Sam didn’t know how often you were being watched. 

Victor pulled up in the round driveway, and Sam said nothing as he sat you in the back of the car. Sam got inside and exchanged concerned glances with Victor before closing his eyes and leaning back into his seat. Victor knew by the look on Sam’s face to say nothing and just drive.

The ride was quiet, and you dozed in and out of sleep from the alcohol coursing through your body. You had reached over Sam’s seat and your fingertips played with his hair and the collar of his shirt, sending chills down his spine.

Victor and Sam discussed plans for the next morning while you attempted to get yourself out of the car, your balance thrown off by the drinks you had.

Sam waved to Victor as you rested on him for support, and Sam helped you get into the motel room.

You giggled and draped your arms around his neck after Sam sat you on the edge of the bed.

“Sam—“ You sighed, leaning into him. “Sam, I need to tell you something.”

He lifted your hands off of his neck and let them drop into your lap. You gave him a disappointed pout before continuing.

“It really means a lot… what you said.” Your fingers toyed with a ripped patch in the sheets.

A small smile appeared on Sam’s lips. He tried to make it half-hearted, but it was almost impossible to separate his emotions.

“Sit tight, alright?” He said quietly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew it would probably be the last time he would be able to kiss you.

Sam’s side had been throbbing since the wound was reopened and Sam locked the bathroom door behind him. He turned on the sink while grabbing for a towel and hesitated when he heard you humming outside.

He listened for a moment, leaning against the door as you sang to yourself, occasionally stumbling into the table or the counter in the room.

Sam let the towel soak in the hot water, taking off his jacket and shirt, now stained bright red from the amount of blood that had soaked into the cloth.

The wound was irritated and bright red, and Sam pressed the cloth against his skin with a wince. It would be much easier, and nonetheless, more calming if you were by his side.

But that’s not how things could go. You couldn’t know about any of this.

The towel soaked up leftover blood and cleaned off the stains on his skin. Sam leaned on the counter, rinsing the rag one last time before hanging it in the shower.

Sam attempted to dry himself off, trying to bandage himself as cleanly and with as much care as you had done the night before, but failed. He figured he had to settle with what we had.

Realizing he hadn’t heard you make any more noise, Sam peered his head out into the room to see you asleep on his bed.

Sam sighed, walking over to the bed and sliding his arms underneath you. He let out a strained groan as he picked you up.

You were fully passed out, only making a small mumble when he moved you, and Sam couldn’t help but smile once more. He laid you back down onto your bed, pulling the sheets over you before returning to his bed and struggling to get onto it. He was out of breath by the time he laid his head back on the headboard, exhausted and in pain.

Lolling his head to the side, he looked over at you. You were facing him, a small smile placed on your lips as you slept.

In that moment, Sam knew he would do anything that it would take to save you.

Even if it meant that he had to lose you.


	9. Running to Stand Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam needs to tell you the truth, yet he can't. You need to find a way to save you own life, yet you don't know where to start. You might as well be running to stand still.

Rain began to pour down on the coastline as Sam stared blankly into the bushes where he last saw you. The true fear he saw in your eyes was an image he would never be able to forget.

His eyes narrowed and his gaze lowered to the floor when he heard slow, faint clapping behind him.

“Quite a show.” A familiar face appeared from the shadows. “You bought me the time I needed, but did it need to be so dramatic?”

Sam’s stare drifted to the man who had forced him to mislead you. The man who brought Sam to a level of weakness that he hadn’t experienced before.

Reaching into his pocket, the man pulled out a golden chain with a large red jewel hanging from it. A strike of lightning illuminated the necklace.

“You got what you wanted.” Sam said coldly. “It’s done.”

The man returned the pendant back to his pocket, arching an eyebrow at Sam before shaking his head.

“I’m afraid not.”

Sam tilted his head.

“What do you mean? I did what you said, the deal is finished!” His voice raised.

“You see, in operations like these…” The man pulled his gun out of his holster. “You can’t have any witnesses. Boss doesn’t like it.”

“No—don’t shoot, the mercenaries will hear you!” Sam’s eyes widened as the man pulled the trigger.

Sam dove out of the way, being deafened by the sound of the gunshot. He had to jump once again as another shot missed him.

“You’re insane!” Sam shouted.

“Not insane, just doing my job.”

His shots hounded Sam until he could lunge at the man, tackling him onto the wooden floors.

Sam blindly threw his punches and knew from the shooting pain that flew threw his knuckles that he landed a hit.

The man struggled underneath Sam, scratching and gripping at his clothes to try and shove him off.

He succeeded and hit Sam square in the face. It gave the man enough time to throw him off.

Sam hit the ground with a thud. He reached for his pistol that was lying on the floor before being shoved back into the floor.

The grip Sam had on his gun slipped just out of grasp and Sam stretched to reach it. The immediate pain and pressure of the man’s boot on Sam’s wrist made him writhe on the ground.

“You’ve been a fighter; I’ll give you that.” The man wiped the blood from his nose onto his sleeve.

“And I’m not finished.”

“Good to see you’re trying, but yes—you are.” The man loaded his pistol once more, aiming the barrel at Sam’s face.

A gunshot ripped through the trees.

On the dock, Victor’s attention shifted from the controls on the plane to the sound of bullets being riddled in the forest.

Panic overcame him as he realized that you and Sam were not alone at the mansion.

“Christ, kid…” Victor said under his breath.

He rushed to the door of the plane and heard hard footsteps hitting the dock. Victor let out a strained sigh of relief when he recognized Sam. He was bloodied and out of breath. Something wasn’t right.

“Victor!” Sam shouted, sprinting down the dock. “We need to go!”

They both ducked inside of the plane and Sam shut the door to the plane. Victor watched from the control panel as Sam ran his hands through his hair in panic.

“Where is she?”

“Victor!” Sam repeated, the grave expression on his face was enough to give a hint that something went awry.

“What were those gunshots?”

“We need to go back to France.” Sam’s breath was heavy, and Victor searched Sam’s eyes for explanation. “Now.”

Without question, Victor started the plane as bullets began to chase down the dock.

A silence passed over the men as they rose above the water. Sam was avoiding any conversation, while Victor was demanding to hear an answer. An answer as to why Sam didn’t come back with you and why he was so quick to leave you behind.

“Sam, what the hell happened down there?” Victor spoke up, turning his head to Sam. He couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Looking out the window, Sam remained silent.

“Samuel.” Victor said sternly.

Sam slipped out of his daze and adjusted himself in the seat, rubbing his wrist.

“We need to go back to France.”

“Before we go anywhere, you’re going to tell me why we left her behind.” Victor countered, Sam’s behavior becoming too suspicious. “Did something happen to her? She didn’t make it?”

Sam pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and exhaled heavily.

“Why wasn’t she with you?”

“Let it go, Victor.” Sam said lowly between his teeth.

“You coulda called me if you needed the help instead of ditching her!”

“I said let it go!” Sam snapped, immediately shutting his eyes and letting out an angered sigh.

Victor fell silent and watched Sam put his head in his hands. He softly shook his head before hearing Sam fidget next to him.

“I—I’m sorry.” Sam said quietly, staring out the window again. “We just need to get back to France.”

Victor said nothing as he flipped certain switches and Sam felt the plane change its course.

Sam sat back in his seat and rubbed his fingers together. He knew you would be headed back to France to try and figure out where things went wrong. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.

* * *

**12:00 AM**

Luck had been on your side.

Luck was the reason you happened to stumble into a streetside market, worn out, beaten, and dehydrated. Some locals were kind enough to patch you up and direct you to the nearest airport, which happened to be a few hours away by taxi.

Luck was the reason that there was a flight headed to France departing a few hours later.

Luck was the reason you were still alive and the reason you had made it this far.

However, your luck was going to run out eventually.

Even though you knew the pendant was gone, a desperation stuck to you in hopes that you still had a chance to find it. You were in doubt, not accepting the fact that The Boss was sending his men to kill you. Or worse—prepping himself to be the one to kill you.

It was only a matter of time until they had you in handcuffs, escorting you to your last waking moments of existence.

Your clock was ticking.

That night, after a silent and miserable flight, you had found yourself in the same bar from before.

Your thoughts of Sam, the pendant, and The Boss wouldn’t leave no matter how much you drank.

The mixture of alcohol and tears made the next few hours a blur. You had finally started to lose your concept of time, yet the thoughts you wanted to lose the most remained.

Sam words and voice haunted your mind.

_“You were valuable to me.”_

You thought he cared. The night at the motel, dancing at the banquet, and kissing you was all leading up to just being used as a tool.

The bitterness of your emotions filled the entire bar, and the bartender hesitated to pour you another drink when you mumbled “un autre” to him.

You had yet to think about what you were going to do next and how you were going to try and escape. The plane ticket had bought you a few hours of time, but then again, you were wasting those hours in a bar.

Figuring you were finished poisoning your body for the night, you tossed some euros on the bar. The bartender looked more than relieved to see you leave.

The cobblestone streets reflected the raindrops that fell from the stormy skies, and you scoffed at the irony of how the weather fit your mood.

You were surprised at how busy the streets were although it was past midnight. Straying couples walked by as they shared an umbrella. Taxis blared their horns while driving by. The small town seemed unbothered by the world around it.

You tucked your hands under your arms and kept your head down as you walked through the streets.

The wind began to pick up and you thought it was better to head back to the motel before the storm became worse.

Your feet splashed in the small puddles that had formed on the sidewalk. Although you weren’t going to admit it, the small childish pleasure of stepping in puddles was relaxing. A small smile pressed against your lips but quickly faded when you heard footsteps and a familiar voice behind you.

“Y/N!” He called out, and you stopped, not sure if it was the alcohol talking. “Hey!”

You turned around, squinting against the light of a streetlamp. It couldn’t be. You didn’t want it to be. Sam was standing underneath the light, dripping from the rain. His clothes were soaked; his hair was wet and messy. He looked awful. Yet, the anger, frustration and sadness that was bottled inside forced you to turn away.

Your pace was hurried and you attempted to turn the corner into the dark alleyway. You felt his hand touch your shoulder.

“Y/N…”

“Why the hell are you here?” You spun around, facing him and his hand slipped off your shoulder. You couldn’t filter the anger in your voice no matter how hard you tried.

“I need to tell you—“ Sam reached for you again.

“Dot touch me!” You jerked away from him.

“Please, just listen!” He was desperate.

“Sam, go away!” Your voice was strained from oncoming tears.

“Y/N!” He shouted, grabbing your wrist. His grip was too soft compared to the tone of his voice. “You have to listen to me!”

“Why should I?” You questioned, pushing his hands off. “Just… leave me alone… okay?”

“This is important, I need you to trust me!”

Your eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“Trust?” You shook your head. “I don’t know how I could.”

“I just need you—“ Sam started.

“You’ve done enough.” You snapped.

Sam watched you walk away, the rain dripped off his face. You had turned the corner of the alleyway before he could call out for you one last time. He bit his cheek in thought. He needed another way to tell you the truth.

The motel hallway lights flickered as you walked. The muffled sound of televisions coming from the other rooms was ambient.

Sliding your card in and out of the door, it clicked as it unlocked. You pushed it open and shit it behind you before twisting the lock shut.

You turned to the room, noticing the moving shadows inside.

A hand flew over your mouth.

A body pinned you against the wall.

A knife touched your throat.

A voice growled into your ear.

“You scream, you die.”


	10. Sunday, Bloody Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find yourself in the warehouse where The Boss carries out his more-- serious operations, and he's not pleased. How will the meeting go down?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! I'm sorry for the small hiatus that I took from writing, I had finals and school to catch up on but I can finally say that it's over for the summer and I will be back with lots more writing! xoxo

Alone at the end of a dock stood an abandoned building, still stocked with the crates from a once booming business. It was the perfect place to hold secrets, and for those secrets to never escape the walls that held them inside.

It was the warehouse.

The moon watched over the water with its light seeping through holes in the roof and providing the only light in the night.

Sam was the first to wake. His eyes shot open in a panic; gagging and coughing from water that trickled around his face.

You woke shortly after. Your eyes opened slowly; shutting them once more from the shooting pain in the side of your head.

Small streams of moonlight peered through slats of wood in front of Sam’s beaten face. He attempted to sit up but soon realized he was laying down. He shifted and realized he was enclosed on all sides. He was trapped.

Circles of moonlight fell onto the concrete floor from the perfectly placed opening in the roof. You stirred in the chair you realized you were sitting in, feeling your wrists tight against the back of the chair. You were handcuffed. You were restrained.

The water never stopped filling into the makeshift wooden coffin that Sam was stuck in. He writhed against the wood, his skin getting caught on slivers and splinters of the planks. The only thing he could do was fight against the wood. If it was weak enough, the wood would break and he could escape.

Raising at an alarming pace, the water covered Sam’s face with every move he made. He kept his face at the surface as long as he could. With each kick and jab, the wood gave way.

A plank became loose by Sam’s feet. He kicked relentlessly at the base of the box.

The water began to rise over his mouth.

The water began to rise over his eyes.

Sam took one last breath for air and submerged himself under the water. He pulled and punched at the wood, using every last bit of energy to break free.

His lungs were burning. His eyes were straining.

He finally felt his legs break through.

Sam shimmied into the open water legs first, then his body, then finally his shoulders and head.

He gasped desperately for air when he broke the surface. Sam looked to his left, then his right, and realized why he was in the water.

He was being drowned.

The two parallel walkways bordered the walls with water in between, perhaps for when ships were parked inside to load their cargo. A bridge connected the two walkways together.

Shadows of armed men moved along the walls. Sam knew he needed to hide. The walkway was the best, darkest spot to escape to.

Tuning in his focus on the men’s conversation, Sam held his breath as they walked overhead.

“What do you think The Boss is gonna do?”

“From what I’ve heard, he said he’s gonna let her go.”

“Even after coming back empty handed?”

The second guard was about to speak when his attention shifted to a stray plank of wood that had floated towards the walkway.

“Shit, he got out. Go cover the west wing!” A pair of boots treaded over Sam’s head, and he stayed ducked in the water until the voices and footsteps were gone.

Sam crawled out of the water and headed to the nearest doorway. His next mission was to find you.

The aluminum doors slammed shut and you jumped in fear from the sudden noise. Heavy footsteps echoed through the only empty room in the warehouse. The room where The Boss held his operations.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back.”

“I never asked to be brought back yet.” You rolled your eyes as The Boss knelt down to your face.

His eyes studied you as you fidgeted with your handcuffs.

The Boss paused, processing his thoughts before he spoke.

“Where’s that pendant that I asked for?” He ran his rough finger against your jawline.

It made you feel sick.

“It’s gone. I don’t know.” The memories of Sam, his betrayal, and your anger resurfaced back into your mind.

“Really?” The Boss asked, raising his eyebrows.

The look of disgust on your face brought a smile onto his. It quickly faded when his attention shifted to the doors behind him.

Swinging open, the doors to the main floor revealed an outlined shadow of a man standing behind them. He was looking to the left as two more men turned the corner.

Your stomach dropped when you recognized the figure being shoved into the room.

It was Sam.

You forced yourself to keep quiet, pressing your lips together while you watched Sam be dragged and thrown to the ground in front of The Boss. His hands were tied behind his back, his clothes were soaked, his face was bloodied, he was pale, and he looked helpless.

You could only blame yourself. This was entirely your fault. Sam wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t gotten him involved.

When you met him, it should have ended where it started.

The Boss noticed the change in your expression. The guilt that showed in your eyes was enough for him to read your weakness. You avoided his eye contact when his lips twisted into a smile.

“Oh? I’m guessing you know each other?”

You glanced at Sam and shook your head with a sigh of disbelief when he looked away. Your face remained hard at The Boss’s prodding words.

“I’m also going to guess that you—worked together?” The Boss stepped towards Sam, watching every move like a hawk.

You were about to deny your partnership when Sam interrupted.

“I never worked with her. You got the wrong guy.” Sam glared at The Boss.

They held their stare for what seemed like almost a minute until The Boss’s fist landed hard onto Sam’s jaw within seconds.

“Sam!”

The Boss turned to you with wide eyes. You immediately knew your mistake.

“So, you do know each other?” The Boss pulled a chair from a nearby table.

He slid the chair towards you before sitting on it in his iconic backwards fashion.

You couldn’t make eye contact with him, or Sam.

“It’s a good thing I’ve known that all along. Who knew you’d be such a liar.” He pressed his finger under your chin, turning your face towards him.

You heard Sam exhale angrily.

The Boss eyes dropped to the floor and connected back to your eyes. They jumped back and forth as he searched for another fault in your composure.

“I guess that also explains why I found this when we searched him.” The Boss’s hand dropped from your chin and reached into his back pocket.

He pulled out a handkerchief folded around something. As you watched his hands, your eyes widened when you saw the glisten of a golden chain in the moonlight.

“No…” You shook your head. “No, that’s not—“

The Boss lifted the chain from the fabric and revealed the pendant while he watched your face intently.

He grinned when he saw your eyes dart to Sam. The Boss folded the pendant back into the fabric as you began to lash out.

“You’re sick!” You shouted at Sam, your attempt at a lunge being jerked to a stop from the cuffs. “How could you? You said someone else took it! You lied to me?”

Tears streamed down your face and it hurt from the crying. You couldn’t believe that he would do this to you, but the evidence was here, staring at you straight in the face.

You were gasping from your sobs as you shook your head.

“Listen to me!” Sam shuffled towards you on his knees but was pulled back by a guard. “I had to do it! I had to protect you!”

You went silent and held your breath as you glared at him.

“To protect me? Look where we are, Sam.” You looked around the room before joining his stare again. “Does this look like protection?”

“They told me they would kill you if I let you get to it.” He said through his teeth, his voice beginning to crumble. “I couldn’t let that happen. I made a promise.”

You stared at him with blank and empty eyes.

Sam’s eyebrows scrunched as his eyes turned to The Boss.

“If your boss wasn’t a two-faced, piece of shit criminal—“ Sam spat.

A guard slammed his shoulder with the butt of his gun and Sam fell to the floor.

You squinted at Sam’s comment in confusion, and immediately froze when a wave of cold blood rushed through your veins. The barrel of a gun was pressed against your temple. It was The Boss’s revolver.

“You know what happens to those who cross me.” He said, turning to look at Sam with a hatred filled glare. “And to those who break my deals.”

You frantically shook your head.

“No, no!” You shouted, rubbing your wrists against the cuffs, doing anything to try and escape. “I never crossed you! You have the pendant! We found it! We never crossed you!”

Click.

You winced at the first click of the revolver.

Sam was on his knees on the ground. Weak and watching, he struggled to say something but went quiet when a guard threateningly stepped closer to him.

The Boss’s grip moved to your shoulder as he prepped the revolver again.

“I don’t want the pendant anymore.”

Click.

You shut your eyes from the sound of the trigger and shook your head with a silent, shaken sob.

“Look—“ Your voice was weak and strained. “Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you just please…”

“I had a deal with your boy over there. Too bad he broke it, huh?” The Boss stared at Sam as he pulled the trigger. “I might have let you walk away.”

Click.

Sam scowled at The Boss and didn’t break his stare when he felt cold metal press against the back of his head.

“Please let me go!” Your eyes darted to Sam for help and you felt tears run down your cheek when you saw him with the barrel of a gun pressed to his head.

The next click of the trigger was about to sound until Sam broke his attention.

“I broke the deal!” The emotion in his voice echoing off the walls. “Don’t shoot her. I’m the one that had the pendant, shoot me instead!” Sam shouted, once again being shoved to the ground by the guards.

The Boss shook his head with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be next.”

Sam’s eyes were wide and locked with yours. He tilted his head as if to say sorry. His chest was raising and falling with the quickness of his breath. Then, his gaze dropped to the floor when he saw the streaks of tears run down your cheeks.

He couldn’t fight back, and you couldn’t either. It was over.

“You’ve been such a fucking thorn in my side since you started.” The Boss’s voice raised with hostility.

Click.

“I just want you dead.”

Click.

5 blank chambers were fired. 6 chambers in the barrel.

You looked up at Sam one last time but he wasn’t looking back at you. His shoulders were slumped and he had tears in his eyes. He couldn’t watch.

Sam’s eyes were on the wall, lost in the guilty thoughts of how he failed. He made a promise to protect you that he broke.

His eyes were clouded from tears, but he watched two more shadows step into the room. They stopped in the doorway when they spotted The Boss about to fire his final round.

The warehouse fell silent. No one said a word. The only sound that echoed through the concrete building was the cocking of the last chamber, and the shaking of your handcuffs.

The numbness in your body was growing. The Boss’s grip moved to the back of your neck and tightened.

You and Sam let out screams in unison when the trigger creaked.

A gunshot fired.

Your chair toppled backward and onto its side.

You hit the ground with a thud. Your face was pressed against the cold concrete floor. You couldn’t see anything, it was dark, your hearing was static, and all feeling was gone.

You only heard a struggle being held behind you with wild gunshots being fired throughout the warehouse.

Footsteps shuffled past the back of your head and the once silent warehouse was becoming a battlefield.

You were scared. The sound of bullets ripping past you had you convinced one was going to hit you. You shut your eyes tightly in hopes that you would somehow make it out unscathed.

A body landed behind you. The closeness of it next to you send you into a panic. You began to struggle, to scream and shout, and you felt the warmth of fresh blood crawl onto your skin.

The two men that stood over Sam dropped to the ground without warning. Two bullets entered them before they could shoot back. Their blood began to spill onto the concrete and Sam twisted out of the poorly tied rope around his wrists.

His eyes never left your chair that was on the ground. He seemed paralyzed until a man with a familiar gruff voice pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“Get up kid!” He shouted over the rest of the gunfire.

Sam stumbled to get to his feet.

“Victor? H-how did you--?”

“No time for that!” Victor shoved a gun into Sam’s hands. “Get shooting!”

Bullets were still flying from men who heard the uproar and rushed to the main room with their fingers readily on the trigger.

“I got the door, you go get her!” Victor shouted over his gunshots.

Sam gritted his teeth and turned around, his eyes going wide when he saw The Boss in a fist fight with a familiar face. He had been absent through the trip to France and the hunt with Victor.

Sam’s brother was here.

Nathan.

Victor and Nathan had dressed like guards, and were the ones that Sam watched step into the doorway before The Boss was about to shoot.

Sam watched Nathan with complete concentration. Nathan was throwing punches and The Boss’s revolver was lying on the ground. The initial gunshot, shot by Nathan, knocked it out of his hand.

Nathan seemed to have the upper hand when The Boss suddenly pulled him into a chokehold.

Sam watched it all happen as if it was in slow motion.

He only had seconds to react.

Sam ran towards Nathan.

He held up his gun.

Closed his eye.

Aimed.

Shot.

The final gunshot left you shaking and crying on the ground. The abundance of gunfire transitioning to silence left you to believe that everyone had died. What had just happened behind you, you had no idea.

Nathan fell to the ground with The Boss, his arms still around Nathan’s neck. He scrambled out of the dead man’s grip and looked back at Sam with wide eyes and heavy breathing.

Sam looked around the room and took in the aftermath. The warehouse was quiet once again. Your crying caught his attention and he looked to you in the chair on the floor.

He immediately dropped his gun and sprinted to behind the chair, shoving the dead body that landed behind your head out of the way. Sam grabbed your shoulders and his hands trailed down to the handcuffs that held you onto the chair.

You cried and writhed in the chair when you felt hands touch you. You were blind to who was behind you.

“Get off me!” You screamed, pushing and tugging away from the chair, rubbing your wrists raw against the handcuffs. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Your mind was warped, traumatized, and you weren’t seeing clearly. You were stuck in a state of frenzied panic.

Nathan quickly picked the key of the handcuffs off The Boss and tossed it to Sam. As soon as they clicked undone, you fell out of the chair onto the floor.

You began to crawl away as fast as you could.

"Hey, Y/N, stop! It’s me, it’s okay, it’s me… it’s Sam…” He quickly stepped around to in front of you so you could see it was truly him.

He pulled you close and you still struggled to get away.

Nathan stood behind Sam, watching until Victor pulled his shoulder to lead him to the doorway.

You punched at Sam and he took the blows until he held your arms down to your side. Sam pressed his palm against your cheek and your tear-filled eyes met with his.

“It’s me… it’s okay…” Sam’s voice softened as he held you tightly. “I got you.”

“Sam…” Your whimpers turned to hard sobs that became muffled when you pressed your face into his chest.

Your fingers curled into his shirt. He held you close and ran his hand up and down your back.

“It’s over.” He said softly, looking back to the body of The Boss on the ground. “It’s all over…”

There, on the warehouse floor, the both of you covered in blood, tears, and dirt, Sam apologized for everything he did. The lies, the defiance, almost losing you. He blamed it all on himself.

Sam exhaled softly with choked tears and pressed his face into the nape of your neck as he held you on the floor.

And you both cried.


End file.
